


Ghosts

by SugarVibes



Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: Chapter update every day, Character Death, Coming Out, Coming of Age, Crappy Father, F/M, Family Bonding, Family Drama, Kittypet Racism, M/M, Message me if you want to know about specific content, Mystery, Original Cat Clans (Warriors), Slow Burn, Supernatural Elements, weird formatting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:42:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 40
Words: 134,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24243001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SugarVibes/pseuds/SugarVibes
Summary: Heronpaw is a young CedarClan apprentice who is well on his way to becoming a warrior. That is, until he starts seeing things. Plagued by visions of a ghostly white cat, Heronpaw starts to lose his grip on what is real. Things get worse when cats begin to act strangely and threat after threat is posed against his clan. Unwilling to accept his new fate, Heronpaw believes that he and his Clan can survive anything. But an early winter is creeping in and the lake will only freeze once more...
Comments: 28
Kudos: 25





	1. Allegiances/Prolouge

(Prologue at the end of allegiances.)

Cedarclan

Leader – Blizzardstar – huge white tom with dark blue eyes

Deputy – Whiteshade – white tom with black tabby markings and amber eyes

Apprentice – Fraypaw – solid dark gray tom with gray eyes

Medicine Cat – Plumleaf – plump pale gray she-cat with kindly brown eyes

Apprentice – Petalpaw – tabby she-cat with white chest and paws

Warriors –

Shadowgrove – large black and white tom

Elkheart – sturdy dark brown tabby tom

Sweetsorrel – tabby she-cat with white paws

Cloudspots – white and gray tom

Apprentice – Morningpaw – pretty calico she-cat

Brushfire – ginger she-cat with bushy tail

Blackmoth – black she-cat with green eyes

Apprentice – Dawnpaw – seal point Siamese (formerly a kittypet)

Swiftwing – black and white tom with long legs

Apprentice – Hawkpaw – dark tabby tom with gray eyes

Falconstorm – dark tabby tom with powerful shoulders

Kestrelfeather – brownish red tom

Apprentice – Heronpaw – black and smoky gray tom with yellow eyes

Ferntail – gray and white patched she-cat with a long curly tail

Talonscore – heavily scarred ginger tom

Apprentice – Crowpaw – black tom with blue eyes

Stonepelt – gray tabby tom

Apprentice – Specklepaw – speckled gray and white she-cat

Runningriver – slim silver tabby she-cat

Slatefoot – strong dark gray tabby tom with black markings

Cherrynose – tortoiseshell she-cat

Queens –

Honeyleaf – cream colored she-cat with blue eyes

Mother to Swiftwing’s kits; Wolfkit (gray tom) and Cyotekit (black and cream tom)

Quailstep – soft furred gray she-cat

Expecting Talonscore’s kits

Spottedfur – dappled brown she-cat with white chest

Oldest nursery queen; stays to help take care of nursing and expecting queens

Elders –

Beepelt – striped gray and black tom

Foxtail – ginger she-cat with white tail tip

Hollowtree – dark tabby tom with large paws

Willowclan

Leader – Cougarstar – sandy brown she-cat with black paws

Deputy – Owlears – brown she-cat with tufty ears

Medicine Cat – Minnowflash – very small silver she-cat

Warriors –

Fogpelt – huge white tom

Apprentice – Beetlepaw – black tom

Iristail – calico she-cat with striking green eyes

Twistedroot – large tabby tom with twisted tail

Apprentice – Sorrelpaw – small calico she-cat

Ripplepelt – black and gray tabby she-cat

Yarrowfang – black tom with yellow eyes

Lightfoot – pale tabby she-cat

Cheetahspot – spotted tabby she-cat

Tigerfang – dark tabby tom with dark stripes

Breezeflight – white and gray tom

Apprentice – Splashpaw – gray tabby she-cat with white spots

Ashpelt – dark gray tom with darker paws

Brackenheart – ginger tabby tom

Frozenpelt – white tom

Hornetsting – black and white she-cat

Apprentice – Houndpaw – large brown tom

Wingshadow – swift black tom

Sparkwhisker – pale tabby tom with white whiskers

Spottedowl – spotted she-cat with large eyes

Queens –

Flowerstream – longhaired tabby she-cat with green eyes

Mother to Fogpelt’s kits; Stormkit (gray tom) and Flightkit (white and ginger she-cat)

Sparrowflight – dark tabby she-cat with white belly

Expecting Sootstep’s kits

Meadowheart – light brown tabby she-cat

Expecting Sparkwhisker’s kits

Elders –

Clawface – heavily scarred black tom

Bubblefur – fluffy gray she-cat

Three-foot – gray tabby tom with only three paws

Silversnow – very old silvery gray she-cat

Pineclan

Leader – Griffonstar – dark ginger she-cat with yellow eyes

Deputy – Beartooth – huge shaggy brown tom

Apprentice – Flamepaw – ginger tom

Medicine Cat – Frostglade – blind white she-cat

Apprentice – Whiteheart – ginger tabby with white chest, paws, and ringed tail

Warriors –

Icefang – white she-cat

Echogorge – large dark tabby tom

Needlefur – tabby tom

Apprentice – Graypaw – gray tabby tom

Longshadow – tall black tom with white chest and belly

Apprentice – Frostpaw – white she-cat

Sunstripe – tabby tom with white stripe down spine

Wildfang – long haired ginger tom with a snaggletooth

Apprentice – Moonpaw – long furred mottled gray she-cat

Waterwhisker – gray and white she-cat

Goldensap – pale ginger she-cat

Rainshadow – dark gray tabby tom

Apprentice – Pebblepaw – dappled gray tom

Littlerose – cream she-cat

Specklepelt – speckled she-cat

Lizardtail – brown tabby tom with thin tail

Dappleheart – White patched tabby she-cat

Stonefoot – heavy gray tom

Scarletclaw – dark ginger she-cat

Galepelt – mottled gray tom

Queens –

Cloudfeather – fluffy white she-cat

Mother to Sunstripe’s kits; Poppykit (tortoiseshell she-cat), Turtlekit (brown tom), Badgerkit (black and white tom), and Downykit (fluffy white she-cat)

Elders –

Mousetail – sandy brown she-cat

Shadepelt – dark brown and black tom

Crookedstripe – tabby tom with crooked tail

Alderclan

Leader – Palestar – aged pale tabby tom with blue eyes

Deputy – Eagletalon – golden tabby tom

Medicine Cat – Finchfoot – white and yellow tom

Warriors –

Rowantail – long haired heavy set ginger tom

Mudmask – white and brown splashed tom

Skyclaw – long-legged tabby she-cat with white underbelly

Apprentice – Hornpaw – ginger tom

Riverwhisper – gray tabby she-cat

Ravenwing – sleek black she-cat

Apprentice – Flutterpaw – golden she-cat

Mossfoot – pale tabby tom

Barkpelt – mottled brown tom

Ashstorm – gray tom with fierce eyes

Nighthawk – black tom with amber eyes and one white ear

Apprentice – Coalpaw – white tom with black paws and ears

Dustyfur – pale brown long haired she-cat

Spitfang – white and black tom

Apprentice – Acornpaw – auburn tom

Snakefeather – unusually spotted gold, brown, and gray tabby tom

Daisyspring – golden she-cat with white paws

Silverwhisker – white and gray longhaired tabby she-cat

Apprentice – Mothpaw – white and brown she-cat

Queens –

Larkflight – white she-cat with light gray tabby markings

Mother to Nighthawk’s kits; Jumpkit (ginger tom), Tinykit (little tabby she-cat), and Whiskerkit (long haired black and white tom with long whiskers)

Quietsong – pale tabby she-cat

Mother to Rowantail’s kits; Nutkit (warm brown tom) and Sweetkit (pale ginger she-cat)

Cricketchirp – black she-cat

Expecting Barkpelt’s kits

Elders –

Patchpelt – black, brown, and white tom

Creampelt - pale cream she-cat

Junipertail – ginger she-cat

Rabbitfoot – pale brown tom

Olivenose – velvety brown she-cat with lame leg

. . .

“Momma, why is Papa taking Dovekit away?”

“Dovekit is with Starclan now my darling.”

“Does that mean I will never see her again?”

“No dear, it means she gets to walk with her ancestors until we come to join her.”

“Can’t I go there now?”

“No love. Your mother needs you here to look after your brothers. Can you do that for me?”

“Okay Momma. I promise.”

“That’s my little Heronkit.”

The faint outline of his father’s broad shoulders stood sentinel against the moon. Heronkit snuggled closer to his mother’s soft fur. He could feel the cold air prick at his ears and nose, but he did not complain. He could sense the solemn mood that hung like low mist over the camp, even though he did not fully understand why. If Dovekit was only going to Starclan, a place he could come see her soon, why was everycat so sad? He pressed himself to his mother’s warm flank, still puzzled by the lump in his throat. Tiredness weighed his eyelids down as he watched the moon sail high overhead. His brothers were already asleep in a tangled lump at the base of Heronkit’s tail.

Unwilling to leave his grieving mother alone, Heronkit trained his yellow eyes on the small circle of stars that remained unhidden by the canopy of needles above their heads. He hoped that he could imagine their cold light into fireflies. After a few seconds, Heronkit saw something silhouetted against a cloud. Squinting, he tried to make out what it was. The shape reminded him of a cat. But how could a cat be in the sky?

Heronkit sat up a little straighter and perked his ears. He watched with an open mouth until the shape passed in front of the silver light of the moon. A beautiful white she-cat was illuminated in front of the moon, a long plumy tail trailing out behind her. Her legs were stretched out like she was in the middle of a leap, but they did not touch down. Heronkit’s eyes grew huge as he watched her sail past the moon and out of sight.

“Goodbye Dovekit. See you soon.” Heronkit whispered to the now empty night sky.


	2. Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> CedarClan fights a rouge invasion. Heronpaw is nervous for his first real fight.

A light, chill breeze ruffled Heronpaw’s fur as he crouched amidst the ferns. Distant sounds of battle pierced the night air and drifted through the forest. The screeches and yowls made Heronpaw’s heart pump faster. Was Cedarclan losing? Would he need to fight?

He chanced a glance at his mentor, Kestrelfeather, who was crouched in the undergrowth a few mouse-lengths away. The auburn warrior’s green eyes were wide and his ears were angled forward, ready to catch any sounds of approaching cats.

Suddenly Kestrelfeather’s ear twitched and he sunk lower to the ground.

Heronpaw’s heart skipped a beat. Was this it? He heard his clanmates behind him shuffle. He felt their hot breath on his back. They were ready to fight.

A shape burst through a hazel thicket and skidded to a halt in front of the waiting patrol. To Heronpaw’s relief, he recognized her.

“Cherrynose.” Kestrelfeather greeted his clanmate as he rose to his paws beside Heronpaw. “Are we needed?”

The skinny tortoiseshell she-cat nodded fervently. Her amber eyes were glazed with pain. “Too…many.” She gasped.

Kestrelfeather turned to his patrol, signaling with his tail. The four warriors and Heronpaw got to their feet and awaited their next instruction. Cherrynose readied herself as well, but Kestrelfeather shook his head at her.

“Go back.” He said.

Cherrynose looked like she was going to argue for a moment, but then thought better. She turned and began to limp away towards camp.

Heronpaw didn’t have time to watch her go. Kestrelfeather had given the signal to run, and Heronpaw didn’t want to get trampled by the rest of the patrol.

He ran alongside his mentor, his heart beating quickly. The sounds of battle grew louder with every paw-step.

 _This is it_. He thought. _My first real fight._ Anxiety and excitement fought for dominance in his belly, making him feel slightly sick.

Kestrelfeather shot his apprentice a look from intense green eyes as they ran. Heronpaw returned the look from wide, scared eyes. The warrior twitched his ears and tail and the patrol spread out behind him. Heronpaw let Kestrelfeather’s pre-battle words run again in his mind.

_Stay close. Stay alert. These rouges do not fight with a warrior’s honor._

Heronpaw hardly had time to go over the words twice before the patrol burst out of the undergrowth and out onto a clear stretch of ground filled with fighting cats. Sounds, scents, and colors assaulted his senses. He wanted to stop, to turn, to run away but he fought the urge. Instead he focused on Kestrelfeather’s pelt and followed it.

His mentor had wasted no time leaping directly onto a rouge who had a Cedarclan warrior pinned under massive, ragged paws.

Heronpaw watched as the huge rouge reared and swiped at his attacker. Kestrelfeather gripped the tom’s broad shoulders with his claws and began scraping his hind claws along the rouge’s spine. Heronpaw’s eyes widened as blood welled up were Kestrelfeather had struck. The rouge bellowed and bucked throwing Kestrelfeather off.

Heronpaw cried out as his mentor crashed to the ground. He tried to move but his paws felt like stone. How could he hope to fight such a huge enemy? The rouge loomed over Kestrelfeather its yellow fangs bared. Heronpaw gave himself a mental shake. His mentor needed him!

Before he could leap to Kestrelfeather’s side, he was shoved aside by another warrior.

“Move!” the warrior spat. Heronpaw stumbled to the side as the newcomer, Falconstorm, leapt forward. The huge tabby grasped Kestrelfeather’s attacker by the shoulders and flung him off. Kestrelfeather leapt to his paws beside Falconstorm and together the two warriors began slashing and swiping at their enemy.

Heronpaw took a step forward, desperate to help, when another huge rouge blocked his path. The rouge leered at Heronpaw with narrowed yellow eyes.

“Canna’ fight me alone, Clan-scat?” he rasped. Heronpaw’s blood pounded in his ears blocking out the noises of the battle. His training of the last four moons came rushing to him all in a moment. He lowered his body into a crouch. The fear was gone and only adrenaline and determination fueled him now. 

The gray rouge cocked his head and lunged. Heronpaw dodged taking advantage of his lighter frame. The rouge crashed into the rocky soil hissing. Heronpaw readied himself for a counterattack as the rouge regained his balance. The gray tom swung his head around with a hiss, but Heronpaw was ready. He lashed out at the rouge’s muzzle with claws extended. The rouge howled as Heronpaw’s claws snagged in flesh.

Heronpaw felt a thrill of surprised satisfaction as the sharp scent of blood hit his nose. His moment of triumph was short lived, however, as a pair of flailing cats swept his hind legs from under him. He fell to the side unbalanced.

The gray rouge seized his chance. In an instant the tom was on top of Heronpaw pinning the apprentice’s shoulders down under large paws.

Heronpaw wriggled madly trying to free himself, but his attacker’s superior weight kept him firmly trapped. Heronpaw gasped for breath as he glared up at the rouge. Shame burned his ears.

“I surrender.” Heronpaw hissed. The rouge’s eyes widened and he snorted.

“Gutless the lot of ya.” he spat, revealing long, cruel fangs. Heronpaw suddenly remembered Kestrelfeather’s words. _They don’t fight with honor…_

Panic exploded in Heronpaw’s chest. He started struggling again, harder this time. The rouge let out a rusty purr and leaned down ready to bite. Heronpaw stared, unblinking, as his view of the night sky became obscured by grungy stinking fur.

_Starclan help me!_

A screech split the air and the weight was lifted from Heronpaw’s shoulders. Instantly Heronpaw was back on his feet and looking around wildly for his savior. He spotted the rouge and a smaller pale brown shape tumbling head over tail across the clearing. Heronpaw tried to run forward to help, but his way was blocked by another pair of flailing, screeching cats.

Unable to tell who was friend and who was foe amongst the writhing mess of limbs, Heronpaw decided against helping. Instead, he bunched his muscles and launched himself into a leap over the commotion. He landed heavily and stumbled. He looked up.

The cat who had come to rescue Heronpaw was Heronpaw’s denmate, Dawnpaw. The older apprentice had the rouge pinned down and was raking his back claws over the intruder’s belly over and over again. The rouge howled in pain but kept on struggling to fight back. In a flash Dawnpaw jumped away just in time to narrowly avoid a vicious kick from the mangy tom’s hind leg.

“Dawnpaw!” Heronpaw called out as he ran to his clanmate’s side. “I’m here!”

Dawnpaw waved his tail to show that he had heard. Together they drove the rogue back against a fallen tree with slashes and swipes from their forepaws. Heronpaw aimed his blows at the tom’s front legs while Dawnpaw battered their foe’s head and face. With a final, guttural screech the rouge tucked his tail under his body and flattened himself against the ground. The apprentices stopped advancing.

“Do you surrender?” Dawnpaw said in a calm voice. The rouge looked up. Hatred burned in his yellow eyes.

“Take your blood, rat-spawn.” He spat.

Dawnpaw looked down his muzzle at the rouge. His eyes cracked with blue ice. “I am not like you.” He said.

The rouge didn’t waste another heartbeat. He scrambled to his paws and shoved his way past the apprentices. Heronpaw watched as the rouge sped away. Dark blood spattered the earth as he went.

Dawnpaw turned to Heronpaw. All of the fierceness and fire was gone from his face, replaced instead by concern.

“Are you hurt?” Dawnpaw asked.

Heronpaw shook his head. “Thanks.” He said.

Dawnpaw dipped his head. He glanced around, then back at Heronpaw.

“Anytime.”

Dawnpaw turned and darted away. Heronpaw followed.

The apprentices weaved around battling cats and headed towards the opposite side of the clearing. Dawnpaw signaled Heronpaw with his long tail. Heronpaw looked around and caught sight of a clanmate in need.

Two rouges, one black and one tabby, had a ginger warrior, Brushfire, backed up against a boulder. The she-cat was fighting back but with every heartbeat that passed she bore new claw-marks.

Before Heronpaw and Dawnpaw could arrive to help a dark grey cat shot out of the crowd and hooked its claws into one of the rouges.

“Fraypaw!” Dawnpaw whooped.

Fraypaw dragged the rouge she-cat, spitting and thrashing, off of his clanmate. Dawnpaw lunged forward and did the same to the second rogue. Heronpaw slowed, unsure who to help.

“Help Fraypaw!” Dawnpaw called to Heronpaw as he wrestled with the black tom.

“I do not _need_ your help, kitty-pet!” spat Brushfire. She shoved Dawnpaw aside and began fighting the black rogue by herself. Heronpaw flinched for his friend, but Dawnpaw didn’t pause. Instead he turned and dove back into the roiling mass of cats that was the main battle.

Heronpaw turned his attention quickly to Fraypaw who was struggling in the tabby rogue’s grip. Heronpaw darted forwards and hooked the she-cat’s back legs out from under her. His attacker off balance, Fraypaw was able to regain his advantage. He cuffed the she-cat around the ears and sank his teeth into her shoulder. The she-cat screamed in pain and shook Fraypaw off. She backed up eyeing the two apprentices.

Heronpaw bared his teeth while Fraypaw let out a low hiss. The she-cat shrank back, turned, and fled. Excited that he had now helped chase off _two_ rogues, Heronpaw looked to Fraypaw, eager to share the pride of victory.

Another rogue was leaping at his clanmate. A white she-cat was headed straight for Fraypaw’s side.

“Look out!” Heronpaw screeched. He knocked Fraypaw over with a desperate shove. The two apprentices tumbled to the ground in a flurry of limbs. Fraypaw scrabbled to his paws and looked around wildly for the attacker. Heronpaw jumped up beside him ready to fight again.

There was nothing there. Heronpaw swung his head around wildly. The she-cat was gone.

“What was that?” Fraypaw growled. Heronpaw didn’t know what to say. He knew he had seen her. Where did she go?

Fraypaw hissed and wasted no time throwing himself back into battle. In a moment he was at his mentor, Whiteshade’s, side, matching the senior warrior blow for blow on a dangerous looking ginger rouge.

Heronpaw shook his head, confused.

“Heronpaw!” A familiar voice called out from the edge of the fight. Heronpaw turned to see Kestrelfeather bounding towards him. Heronpaw ran to meet his mentor.

“What happened?” Kestrelfeather said. He was a little out of breath.

“I got cut off.” Heronpaw meowed.

“You are unhurt?” Kestrelfeather said. He pushed his nose into Heronpaw’s flank. Heronpaw moved away from his mentor’s touch.

“I am fine.” Heronpaw churned his paws against the ground. “What now?”

He searched the crowd for a clanmate in need or a rouge on their own, but all he saw were familiar pelts.

“The battle is waning.” Kestrelfeather said. As he spoke, Whiteshade and Fraypaw spun on their front paws and delivered a synchronized kick to the ginger rouge’s chest. The intruder went flying from the force of the blow and landed with an audible thump at the edge of the clearing.

Whiteshade stalked up to his foe. The rouge struggled to his paws and shrunk back from Whiteshade’s commanding presence.

“Leave.” Whiteshade hissed. The simple word caused the rouge to turn tail and run. The last of the intruders broke off from their respective fights and fled after what Heronpaw supposed was their leader. When the last tail disappeared through the brush, the cats of Cedarclan began yowling in triumph. Heronpaw added his voice to the clamor. They had won! He had _helped_!

“Shadowgrove. Elkheart. See them off.” Whiteshade called over the noise.

Two senior warriors stepped forward from the crowd. They nodded and took off after the retreating rogues.

“Cedarclan withdraw.” Whiteshade added in a tired voice.

The remaining Cedarclan cats began to group up. They helped injured clanmates to their paws and licked wounds. Heronpaw and Kestrelfeather joined the group as it began moving back towards camp.

Heronpaw followed as Kestrelfeather led him around their clanmates. He slowed when he reached the side of a large tabby tom. Falconstorm. Heronpaw’s heart sank.

“Your son did well.” Kestrelfeather related casually. Falconstorm cast a sideways glance at Heronpaw, who shrank back behind his mentor.

“I assume that means he did _not_ just stand there for the whole fight?” Falconstorm snorted. Kestrelfeather’s ears twitched.

“Of course.” He said. His back stiffened. Falconstorm just shrugged and lengthened his stride. The dark warrior soon left Kestrelfeather and Heronpaw behind. Heronpaw hung his head, ashamed. Why had Falconstorm been the one to see his moment of weakness?

“Grumpy old badger.” Kestrelfeather said with a forced purr.

Heronpaw didn’t respond.

“Kestrelfeather!” Dawnpaw and his mentor Blackmoth bounded up to Kestrelfeather’s side.

“Dawnpaw tells me that Heronpaw helped him fight off a rogue twice their size!” Blackmoth gushed. Dawnpaw flattened his ears in embarrassment at his mentor’s praise.

“He was not that big.” Dawnpaw mumbled.

“They were all the size of badgers.” Kestrelfeather purred. Heronpaw brightened a bit. Kestrelfeather was impressed.

“Blizzardstar has to make Dawnpaw a warrior now!” Blackmoth continued. Her black tail swayed with happiness.

Kestrelfeather nodded. “He certainly fought like one.”

Dawnpaw ducked his head, humble. “Thank you.”

The group continued on their way through the dark forest with ease. Any other cat who tried to navigate these forests at night would find an obstacle at every paw-step. Cedarclan cats, however, avoided these with careful grace. Only a cat who had been born and raised here could tame this forest floor with its creeping ferns, twisted roots, and hidden stones.

As they ran Heronpaw looked over at his friend. Dawnpaw’s usually flawless coat was crisscrossed with claw marks and stained with dirt and blood. Despite his appearance the apprentice’s blue eyes were shining with pride and excitement. Heronpaw felt a stab of jealousy. Dawnpaw could become a warrior tonight. Heronpaw was still too young and inexperienced.

 _Just a little longer._ He told himself. Dawnpaw was only two moons older than Heronpaw. His claws itched. He couldn’t wait!

Eventually the patrol came to the base of a tree covered slope. They began to climb. The chatter that had been prevalent before died down as the exhausted and injured cats heaved themselves up the hill.

The moon was high in the sky by the time the battle patrol approached the fern tunnel that led into the Cedarclan camp. One by one they slipped through the low hanging fronds and entered the hollow that acted as Cedarclan’s camp. The dip in the ground was surrounded by huge red cedar trees that protected the clan from weather as well as intruders.

Heronpaw’s clanmates were milling around the clearing. Those who had stayed to protect the camp from a counterattack were pacing back and forth with twitching tails. Plumleaf and her apprentice Petalpaw were flitting around the battle-worn cats checking for serious injuries.

Heronpaw followed Kestrelfeather to the center of camp where the other warriors were gathering. He sat with his mentor among his clanmates and waited. Once every cat was through the tunnel a deep, booming call sounded from the front of the group.

“Let all warriors and apprentices gather here for a meeting!”

Heronpaw looked up to the Highbranch; a low hanging bough where the clan leader addressed the clan. Cedarclan’s leader, Blizzardstar, was sitting there. He surveyed his clan with dark blue eyes. Heronpaw was surprised to see his leader’s white fur laced with scratches. Blizzardstar hadn’t even been in the battle.

The few warriors who weren’t already seated quickly did so. Heronpaw caught sight of his brothers Hawkpaw and Crowpaw sitting with their mentors a few tail-lengths away. Heronpaw tried to get their attention with a wave of his tail, but he was reprimanded by a sharp click of the tongue from Kestrelfeather.

Heronpaw sat back, embarrassed.

“Whiteshade report.” Blizzardstar began. Whiteshade stood up at the head of the crowd. His white and black pelt glowed in the moonlight.

“My patrol initially engaged with a numbers advantage. As we guessed, the enemy had reinforcements. Once our backup arrived we won the fight easily.” He said in a loud, firm voice.

A wave of triumphant yowls met Whiteshade’s words. They died away almost instantly as Blizzardstar raised his tail for silence.

“Continue.” He said to his deputy.

“I sent Shadowgrove and Elkheart to follow and report.” Whiteshade said. Blizzardstar nodded.

“Good.” He said. “It seems you were also right about the possibility of a counterattack. Three rogues attempted to break into camp expecting our kits and elders to be defenseless.” Blizzardstar flexed his claws. “They were mistaken.” He ended in a deep growl.

Another swell of yowls filled the air. Heronpaw craned his neck to look at his brothers. They had been part of the camp guard. Had they been able to fight too? Hawkpaw held his head high with a look of satisfaction on his face. Crowpaw sat straight-backed and solemn as he always was. Heronpaw was relieved. He had felt guilty that he got to fight while his brothers were left behind.

“Blizzardstar, Blackmoth and I have a request.” Whiteshade called over the noise. The celebratory yowls faded away into excited murmurs.

“Fraypaw and Dawnpaw both fought like warriors today.” Whiteshade continued. “We believe it is time.”

A few murmurs of protest arose from several of the clan cats. Heronpaw even heard a few growls of disbelief. The noise grew as more cats began voicing their opinions under their breath. An air of tension fell over the clan. 

Blizzardstar sat motionless on his perch above the clan. He stared down at the cats. The muttering quickly died away under his gaze.

“I agree.” Blizzardstar said.

“Blizzardstar, reconsider! Dawnpaw has no clan-blood.” A large warrior, Slatefoot, had jumped to his paws near the front of the crowd.

The tension broke. Kestrelfeather and Heronpaw hissed and stood up, as did several other warriors. Blackmoth sprang to her feet with tail bushed out and faced Slatefoot. Fraypaw stood at Dawnpaw’s side staring down his clanmates with fierce gray eyes. Dawnpaw himself looked worried.

“Dawnpaw has proved himself.” Whiteshade growled.

Brushfire stood up next to Slatefoot, sneering at Whiteshade.

“He’s not clan-born. The warrior code says-“

“Enough!” Blizzardstar boomed. Silence fell once more over the clan. Heronpaw reluctantly sat back on his haunches.

“Fraypaw and Dawnpaw shall receive their warrior names.” Blizzardstar continued. “The ceremony will be held in the morning.” With that the Cedarclan leader jumped down from his perch. Slatefoot and Brushfire looked angry but didn’t press the matter. Heronpaw smirked. It didn’t matter how they felt about Dawnpaw now. The clan leader’s word was law.

Beside Heronpaw Kestrelfeather stood.

“You should get some sleep.” Kestrelfeather said to his apprentice. Heronpaw looked over at his denmates who were gathering together to gossip.

“But-“ He began. Kestrelfeather cut him off.

“Duties wait for no cat.” He nudged Heronpaw to his feet and nodded at the apprentice’s den. “You can chat with your denmates tomorrow.” 

Heronpaw dragged his paws over to the hollow stump where the apprentices made their nests. He entered to find the den empty. He muttered to himself as he picked his way to his nest.

He flopped down, frustrated, and began to wash.

He was only alone for a little while. Hawkpaw and Crowpaw entered first followed by Specklepaw, the youngest of the apprentices.

“How was it?” Hawkpaw demanded as soon as he entered.

“Confusing and intense.” Heronpaw said. “There were just so many cats.”

Crowpaw looked at him, tilted his head and opened his mouth to speak.

“I remember my first battle.” Hawkpaw said, running over the beginning of Crowpaw’s sentence. “I was not afraid.”

Specklepaw looked at Hawkpaw with wide eyes. Crowpaw snorted.

“Your first battle was chasing a kitty-pet off of clan land, no?” he said. Heronpaw tried not to purr but failed. Hawkpaw whirled to confront his brother but was interrupted by the arrival of Fraypaw and Dawnpaw. Specklepaw and Hawkpaw immediately crowded their denmates.

“Did you really fight off a rogue by yourself?” Specklepaw squeaked.

“How many were there?” Hawkpaw pressed.

“It’s too late for this.” Fraypaw grumbled. He went straight to his nest and curled up without another word.

Dawnpaw twitched his whiskers apologetically at the others. “He’s just tired.” He said.

Fraypaw snorted from underneath his tail.

Hawkpaw and Specklepaw turned their eyes on Dawnpaw instead.

“So am I. Goodnight.” Dawnpaw said quickly. He settled down next to Fraypaw and curled his long cream tail over his nose.

Hawkpaw churned his paws on the ground while Specklepaw muttered something under her breath. Together they made their way to their own nests.

Eventually the last apprentice, Morningpaw, entered the den smelling strongly of herbs. She had a cobweb patch on one shoulder. Heronpaw waved his tail at her in greeting. She waved back. Her green eyes were already half-closed.

Heronpaw curled his tail over his nose and sighed deeply. The sounds of his denmates falling asleep around him was soothing. He began to fantasize about the battle. His half asleep mind remembered it to be much more grand and intense than it had been. He imagined Kestrelfeather telling Blizzardstar that Heronpaw was ready to be a warrior. The whole clan cheered as he stood before them, proud and strong.

He purred softly into his fur. That day was not so far now. He couldn’t wait.


	3. CedarClan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dawnpaw looks forward to his warrior ceremony with Fraypaw by his side.

Dawnpaw pushed his way out of the den and out into the cold clearing. He fluffed out his pelt against the morning mist and shivered. Leaf-fall was advancing and each night grew colder than the last. Soon the fresh-kill pile would grow small as prey hid deep underground.

He picked his way across the root-strewn ground to where Fraypaw was waiting. The gray apprentice was standing at the fern tunnel. When Dawnpaw arrived at his side, Fraypaw squeezed through the tunnel without a word. Dawnpaw followed.

He nodded to Elkheart who was standing guard outside of camp. The dark brown tom gave the apprentices a small nod. He stretched his jaws wide in a yawn. One amber eye remained open to scan the forest before him.

Fraypaw led Dawnpaw down a small path that ran alongside the walls of the camp. After a few foxlengths they arrived at a small clearing ringed with small white wildflowers. A break in the canopy allowed a stream of fading starlight to fall to the forest floor. The ground around their paws was strewn with stones of all colors and sizes.

Fraypaw carefully avoided stepping on any of the blossoms as he made his way to a pair of stones at the edge of the clearing. The smooth river stones sat next to each other, touching. A single yellow flower grew from between them. Fraypaw sat. Dawnpaw settled down beside him.

They sat in silence for a long moment. The sun had peeked over the horizon by now, and the gray dawn was arriving.

“Do you think Sootcloud and Lilypool are proud of us?”

Dawnpaw looked at Fraypaw. The gray tom was staring up at the tiny patch of exposed sky above them. A lone pair of stars still hung there, refusing to go out even as the light of dawn chased away their companions.

Dawnpaw laid his tail on his friend’s back.

“Of course.” He said.

Fraypaw fell silent again. Dawnpaw looked down at the two stones. He remembered Lilypool’s rasping tongue and Sootcloud’s kind blue eyes. Dawnpaw squeezed his eyes shut, trying to remember more. Lilypool’s white fur shining in the light of new-leaf. Sootcloud bringing them mouse tails to play with. Each precious memory was as faint and thin as morning mist in Greenleaf.

At one point in his memories Lilypool was replaced by Spottedfur, an elderly queen who stayed in the nursery to help young mothers and their kits. She had taken Dawnpaw and Fraypaw under her wing when Lilypool and Sootcloud had died. Dawnpaw loved Spottedfur and all that she had done for him, but his heart ached for Lilypool’s sweet, clear mew and fierce love.

Fraypaw’s parents had never treated Dawnpaw differently, even though he wasn’t their son. A wave of bittersweet emotion passed over Dawnpaw. His chest tightened. He wished he could remember more.

Dawnpaw sighed and opened his eyes. He leaned down and touched his nose to each stone in turn. His touch lingered on the smaller of the two, a round white river cobble, before he straightened up. Fraypaw leaned into Dawnpaw’s side.

“You were always theirs.” He murmured. Dawnpaw closed his eyes. He knew.

They sat together for a while quietly sharing memories. The forest around them awoke and splashes of bird song carried through the trees. The light hum of insects along with sounds of Cedarclan waking rose up around them. The muffled mews and rumbling purrs of Dawnpaw’s clanmates drifted to his ears from beyond the undergrowth.

“We should go back.” Dawnpaw said. Fraypaw nodded and stood. Together they made their way back to camp.

They arrived to a much different camp than they had left. The sun’s light was flooding the clearing from behind the trees, burning away the low mist that hung over the ground. The once silent and still camp was bustling now.

Warriors milled around talking and eating. The elders were lounging next to their sunning rock waiting for the sun to peek over the trees and warm their tattered pelts. Among the gnarled roots of a cedar sat the queens. They shared tongues a few tail-lengths away from two fluffy kits who were squeaking in excitement as they played with a feather. Dawnpaw waved his tail at Spottedfur. She waved back excitedly.

“Dawnpaw! Fraypaw! There you are.” A voice rang across the clearing. The apprentices turned to see the clan deputy, Whiteshade, padding towards them. Dawnpaw’s mentor Blackmoth was following. Her black tail was twitching.

“We went to visit Sootcloud and Lilypool.” Dawnpaw said as the warriors drew closer. Blackmoth’s annoyed expression faded.

“Of course.” She meowed. She laid her tail over Dawnpaw’s shoulders.

“Blizzardstar will call a clan meeting soon.” Whiteshade said. He flexed his claws in the soil, impatient. “I do not see why we he could not have done it last _moon_ , but here we are.” He added in a low mutter.

“I wanted to wait for Dawnpaw.” Fraypaw said, staring into his mentor’s amber eyes. Whiteshade blinked and shrugged.

“I know. That does not mean I had to like it.” He grumbled. “Go get something to eat.” The warrior dismissed the apprentices with a flick of his striped tail.

Fraypaw moved away toward last night’s leftover fresh-kill. Dawnpaw hurried after him.

“You said Whiteshade agreed!” he said. He hadn’t known the clan deputy was so opposed to Fraypaw’s delayed ceremony. Guilt itched beneath Dawnpaw’s pelt. Fraypaw could have been a warrior already!

Fraypaw shrugged and chose a thrush from the tiny pile. Dawnpaw grabbed his own prey, a mouse, and followed Fraypaw to their usual eating spot. They settled down among the sprawling roots of an old cedar at the far end of the clearing. Dawnpaw dropped his mouse and stared pointedly at his denmate. Fraypaw began casually shredding feathers of his thrush. Dawnpaw cleared his throat. Fraypaw looked up and rolled his gray eyes.

Dawnpaw opened his mouth to protest but then thought better. Fraypaw was stubborn and what was done was done. Dawnpaw let out a light purr despite his annoyance. Becoming a warrior with Fraypaw sounded much better than doing it alone. There was no sense in being angry that Fraypaw had given him that gift.

They ate in relative silence for bit. Dawnpaw watched his clanmates going about their morning. Brushfire had led an early hunting patrol and they had returned back with warm fresh-kill. Morningpaw and Specklepaw were distributing it to the elders, queens, and kits.

A familiar pelt caught Dawnpaw’s eye and he watched as Heronpaw squeezed out of the apprentice’s den. The younger cat padded over to his mentor, Kestrelfeather, who sent him with a flick of his tail to the fresh-kill pile. Dawnpaw was pleased to see a glow of pride in Heronpaw’s yellow eyes. The black and gray tom wasn’t very confident so a reward for his part in yesterday’s battle was bound to lift his spirits.

Dawnpaw was about to call out to Heronpaw when a large dark tabby tom blocked the younger cat’s way to the fresh-kill pile. The warrior, Falconstorm, leaned down close to Heronpaw’s ear. Heronpaw’s ears flattened and he gestured weakly in Kestrelfeather’s direction. Falconstorm straightened up, lashed his tail, and stalked away. Heronpaw’s tail drooped and he quickly grabbed a scrawny shrew from the pile. Dawnpaw’s belly clenched for his friend. Having a father like Falconstorm had to be tough.

“Hey Heronpaw! Come eat with us.” Dawnpaw called out, waving his tail. Heronpaw’s head and tail lifted a little when he saw Dawnpaw waving to him. He padded over and sat.

“Greetings.” Heronpaw mumbled around his shrew. “You fought like warriors yesterday.” His yellow eyes fell to his paws.

Dawnpaw dipped his head. “You fought well too.”

Heronpaw flattened his ears and didn’t say anything.

Dawnpaw flicked his tail. Why did Falconstorm have to be so hard on the son who needed the most encouragement?

“Falconstorm was pretty tough on you just now.” He mentioned.

Heronpaw looked up, his eyes widening in horror. Dawnpaw shot Fraypaw a withering look from narrowed eyes.

“I was trying to make him feel better, mousebrain!” he hissed.

“Sorry.” Fraypaw said. He shrunk under Dawnpaw’s icy glare and began hastily grooming his dark gray tabby fur.

Heronpaw just shook his head.

“Fraypaw’s right.”

Dawnpaw’s ears drooped. Surely that wasn’t true.

“He wants you to do your best. He is your father after all.” He said.

Fraypaw snorted loudly into his mound of feathers. Dawnpaw ignored him.

After a moment, Dawnpaw gave Heronpaw a friendly nudge. “Hey, at least you have Kestrelfeather. You’re luckier than most to have a mentor like him.”

Fraypaw shook his head and rolled his eyes. 

“It’s hard to believe that he and Falconstorm are littermates.” He said.

Heronpaw blinked gratefully at his denmates. Dawnpaw perked up. At least he could help Heronpaw feel a little better. He went back to his mouse.

The three denmates chatted idly about the battle for a while. Dawnpaw tried to keep his mind off of his impending warrior’s ceremony, but it wasn’t really working. His gaze kept drifting over to the fallen tree where Blizzardstar slept. He should be coming out soon.

“Hey, I’m talking to you.” An angry hiss interrupted Dawnpaw’s thoughts. He turned to find that Slatefoot, a large black and gray warrior, had joined the group. The young warrior was staring at Dawnpaw with narrowed green eyes.

Dawnpaw’s denmates stiffened. Fraypaw’s neck fur began to bristle. Dawnpaw looked up into Slatefoot’s face.

“Yes?” he mewed politely.

Slatefoot narrowed his eyes and glanced at Fraypaw. He curled his scarred lip to reveal his long teeth.

“I need a word.” He said in a tight voice.

Fraypaw jumped to his feet. Slatefoot shot him a suppressing glare.

“ _Alone._ ” He hissed.

Fraypaw didn’t sit back down. Dawnpaw lifted a forepaw and cleaned it. Slatefoot couldn’t want him for anything good, but letting Fraypaw come was certainly a mistake. The two toms had almost come to blows several times before. When he was done cleaning Dawnpaw stood up and stretched.

“Okay, Slatefoot.” He said with forced cheerfulness.

Fraypaw opened his mouth to argue but Dawnpaw shot him a look.

 _Slatefoot is my clanmate. He’d never hurt me._ Dawnpaw thought.

“I’ll see you later.” Dawnpaw waved his tail at Fraypaw and Heronpaw and turned to follow Slatefoot away. The tabby warrior led Dawnpaw out of camp and away from the entrance. After barging his way a few foxlengths into the undergrowth Slatefoot stopped and whirled to face Dawnpaw.

“You don’t belong.” he said with a growl.

Slatefoot’s eyes were blazing with anger and his fur was spiked out along his spine. Dawnpaw blinked in surprise and took a step back.

He lifted his chin. “Blizzardstar thinks I do.”

Dawnpaw had undergone this treatment before. Warriors, apprentices, elders, even cats from other clans telling him he wasn’t welcome.

Slatefoot shoved his face close to Dawnpaw’s.

“You’re a _kitty-pet_.” He spat the word like a curse. “You’re a mistake.”

Dawnpaw straightened his back and lifted his tail. “You don’t trust Blizzardstar?” he said.

Slatefoot’s green eyes bulged.

“Of course I do!” he said. His voice had risen to a half-yowl.

“Then trust his judgement about me.” Dawnpaw said. He fixed his clanmate with an earnest stare. “Let me prove to you-.”

Slatefoot didn’t let him finish. The warrior let out a choked shriek and knocked Dawnpaw off his feet with a swipe of a massive paw. Dawnpaw fell, stunned.

Slatefoot loomed over him, pinned Dawnpaw’s shoulders to the ground, leaned down and pressed his muzzle to Dawnpaw’s ear. Dawnpaw felt hot breath ripple his neck fur.

“Accept a warrior name and you will regret it.” Slatefoot hissed. “I will make sure of it.”

Slatefoot released Dawnpaw and stalked away. Dawnpaw lay dazed for a moment his mind racing. Had that really just happened? Did a clanmate just threaten him?

He had known that there were cats who distrusted him for his origins. He knew that many cats outside of Cedarclan thought Blizzardstar was mad for taking in a kitty-pet kit. He had no idea, however, that any cat in his _own_ clan hated him that much.

Dawnpaw rose shakily to his feet. His heart was pounding. Maybe he should have let Fraypaw come.

“Dawnpaw?” a soft voice called out. Dawnpaw spun around in time to see a short, spotted brown she-cat push her way out of the ferns. She looked around, confused.

“Who were you talking to?” She asked. Dawnpaw shook his head.

“Myself.” He lied. He raised a paw to lick it again.

Spottedfur’s green eyes softened.

“You must have the cleanest paws in the clan. Nervous?” she guessed.

Dawnpaw nodded quickly. His twitching tail and fear-scent could be explained away by nervousness.

Spottedfur brushed her cheek against Dawnpaw’s jaw.

“You’ll do wonderfully.” She purred. Dawnpaw breathed in her familiar scent, letting it calm him. Slatefoot was just angry. He was a rash but loyal Cedarclan warrior. He would never harm a clanmate, no matter how much he resented them.

“Thank you Spottedfur.” Dawnpaw purred back. He nuzzled her shoulder then padded over to push the foliage out of the way. “Let’s go back.”

Together they made their way back. When they entered through the fern tunnel, Dawnpaw was greeted almost immediately by Fraypaw. He had been sitting right next to the entrance.

His gray fur relaxed on his shoulders when he saw who Dawnpaw was with. Fraypaw fell in beside Dawnpaw as they led the elder queen back to the nursery.

“I remember when you were just kits.” Spottedfur said her eyes glowing with nostalgia. “Dawnpaw, you would follow Fraypaw around and pretend to be his deputy.”

Fraypaw flicked his tail at Dawnpaw, a playful gleam in his eye. Dawnpaw flattened his ears, embarrassed. Spottedfur continued.

“When Sootcloud and Lilypool went to Starclan I knew that it would be hard for you two. I knew you’d face many challenges. But look at you now.” She backed away from the apprentices and looked them up and down. Dawnpaw realized with a jolt that he was now at least a head taller than the old queen. Last time he had checked, he only had an ear’s height on her.

“You’re going to be warriors!” Spottedfur purred.

Dawnpaw touched Spottedfur’s nose with his own.

“You raised us well.” He said. Fraypaw stepped forward and rested his muzzle on the old she-cat’s head. Spottedfur’s purr loudened. They stood, a family stitched together by circumstance and tragedy, but as strong as any blood bond.

“Dawnpaw! Fraypaw!” Dawnpaw looked up to see Blackmoth waving her tail at him from next to Blizzardstar’s den. Her eyes were bright with excitement. Whiteshade was pacing beside her.

“It’s time!” Spottedfur cried. She head butted Dawnpaw and Fraypaw, pushing them in the direction of their mentors.

“I’ll be the first to call your names.” Spottedfur promised as the apprentices padded away.

As they crossed the clearing Dawnpaw noticed that much of the clan had already gathered in anticipation of the meeting. He saw Heronpaw sitting with Kestrelfeather. The apprentice looked happier than he had this morning. His eyes were bright with excitement and his head was held high. Dawnpaw felt relieved. Heronpaw had reason to be proud this day. Falconstorm was not going to ruin that for his son.

Dawnpaw also noticed Slatefoot, Brushfire, and Cloudspots sitting together at the edge of the gathering clan. Slatefoot caught Dawnpaw’s eye and drew his scarred lips back in a snarl. Brushfire narrowed her eyes and Cloudspots shifted uncomfortably beside her. Dawnpaw looked away. They were just angry. Once they realized he could be a loyal warrior they would come to accept him.

Dawnpaw and Fraypaw reached their mentors and sat beside them. Blackmoth immediately started fussing over Dawnpaw’s pelt.

“You’re a mess!” she huffed. Dawnpaw ducked out from under her tongue.

“I’m fine Blackmoth.” He purred. Blackmoth twitched her whiskers.

Whiteshade sat, back straight and eyes forward facing the clan. Fraypaw sat beside him like a shadow. Dawnpaw marveled at how noble his denmate looked.

The dark gray tom looked like a seasoned warrior. He had poise and presence, skill and loyalty. Any clan would be happy to have a warrior like him. Dawnpaw puffed out his chest, trying to imitate Fraypaw’s commanding stance.

They only had to wait a moment before Blizzardstar emerged from his den. The huge tom nodded at the waiting cats before leaping up onto the low hanging branch that hung above his den. The chatter among the clan ceased at their leader’s arrival. Dawnpaw felt a thrill of excitement and nervousness.

“Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather beneath the High Branch for a clan meeting!” Blizzardstar boomed. He curled his long white tail around his paws and looked down at his clan with dark blue eyes. The few stragglers that hadn’t already gathered were hurrying over and taking their seats among their clanmates. Once everycat was seated, Blizzardstar began.

“A group of rouges made an attempt to settle on our territory near the river. They refused to leave and demanded to fight for the land.”

A chorus of angry hisses met his words. Dawnpaw wanted to show his teeth too, but he remained stiff and proper. 

“A patrol of Cedarclan warriors met our enemies in battle. Our cats drove off the intruders with little effort.” 

There was a ripple of movement among the clan. Everycat wanted to look at one of the warriors who had fought. Dawnpaw felt a rush of pride and embarrassment as the eyes of his clanmates passed over him.

“Let those who dare underestimate our strength hear this now.” Blizzardstar raised his voice to a deep thundering roar as he rose to his four massive paws. “Our claws are sharp. Our teeth are bared. We will defend this land with our blood and our bones. We are strong and wise. We are Cedarclan!”

A deafening wave of triumphant yowls met Blizzardstar’s proclamation. Adrenaline pumped through Dawnpaw’s veins and his claws itched to fight once more.

“Drive out the foxhearts!” Kestrelfeather yowled from the crowd. Blizzardstar let the noise continue for a moment, then lifted his tail for silence. Immediately the clan fell quiet.

“Four young apprentices stood shoulder to shoulder with their clanmates on that triumphant battlefield. They proved their skill in battle as well as their unwavering loyalty for this clan. Fraypaw, Dawnpaw, Morningpaw, and Heronpaw, we honor you.” Another cheer went up among the clan. Blizzardstar continued, raising his voice so he could be heard above the noise.

“For many moons I have watched Dawnpaw and Fraypaw hone their skills and define their talents. Today I honor them their warrior names.”

Blizzardstar leapt down from his perch to face the two apprentices. Fraypaw had his head held high and his muscles flexed. Dawnpaw stared straight ahead. A cold fire of determination burned in his belly.

“Come forward Fraypaw.” Blizzardstar commanded. Fraypaw took a few steps forward until he was almost nose to nose with Blizzardstar’s huge figure. Blizzardstar looked into Fraypaw’s eyes for a moment. He then gave a tiny nod and lifted his head to the sky.

“I Blizzardstar, leader of Cedarclan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on this apprentice. He has trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code, and I commend him to you as a warrior in his turn.” A visible shiver ran down Fraypaw’s back as these words were said. Blizzardstar looked back down into Fraypaw’s face. Dawnpaw held his breath. Those ancient words would be spoken to him in just a few heartbeats.

“Fraypaw, do you vow to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend your Clan, even at the cost of your life?”

“I do.” Fraypaw’s voice was firm and sure. Blizzardstar closed his eyes and nodded.

“Then by the powers of Starclan, I give you your warrior name. Fraypaw, from this moment on you will be known as Frayclaw. Starclan honors your loyalty and courage and we welcome you as a full warrior of Cedarclan.” Blizzardstar rested his head on Frayclaw’s head and the new warrior licked his leader’s shoulder.

“Frayclaw!” Spottedfur’s voice called. The rest of the clan soon joined in.

Blizzardstar signaled for silence once more. 

He motioned for Dawnpaw to step forward. Dawnpaw felt like he was going to be sick. He forced his paws to move. He caught Frayclaw’s eye and instantly felt more confident.

Several hisses of anger rose among the clan. Dawnpaw kept his head held high. He would prove them wrong. Blizzardstar paid the interruption no heed. He looked down at Dawnpaw, pride shining in his eyes.

“I Blizzardstar, leader of Cedarclan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on this apprentice. He has trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code, and I commend him to you as a warrior in his turn.”

Dawnpaw breathed in, catching a familiar, flowery scent. Another breath brought a crisp, woody smell.

_Lilypool. Sootcloud. You’re here with me?_

“Dawnpaw, do you vow to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend your Clan, even at the cost of your life?”

Dawnpaw couldn’t help but glance quickly to the side. He saw Slatefoot’s face. It was twisted in a snarl. The scar on his top lip shone white against his dark fur. Lilypool’s scent wreathed around Dawnpaw once more. He straightened his back and looked into Blizzardstar’s eyes.

“I do.”


	4. White

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heronpaw goes on an important patrol.

“Then by the powers of Starclan, I give you your warrior name. Dawnpaw, from this moment you will be known as Dawnheart. Starclan honors your optimism and unbreakable spirit. We welcome you as a full warrior of Cedarclan.”

Blizzardstar rested his muzzle on Dawnheart’s head. Dawnheart licked his leader’s shoulder, his whole body trembling again. The two newly named warriors stood shoulder to shoulder and turned to face their clan. Before any cat could cheer however, Frayclaw opened his own jaws and yowled in a firm, resounding voice “Dawnheart! Dawnheart! Dawnheart!” Heronpaw added his own voice to the chant, as did Kestrelfeather and many others.

Dawnheart looked happier than Heronpaw had ever seen him. The new warrior’s eyes were shining as he looked around at his clanmates. Frayclaw turned to Dawnheart and swiped his tongue over his friend’s ear in an affectionate gesture. Dawnheart softly head-butted Frayclaw in return.

“Congratulations!” Spottedfur, the elder queen who had raised Frayclaw and Dawnheart, bounded forward and began covering their ears in licks.

“I’m so proud of you!” she purred, loud enough for Heronpaw to hear over the cheers. Dawnheart happily nuzzled the old speckled cat. Frayclaw flattened his ears in embarrassment but licked Spottedfur on the shoulder none the less.

The cheers for the new warriors went on for a long while until finally they died down. More cats moved in on the new warriors to congratulate them. Spottedfur stood at their side, her tail in the air and her chest puffed out like a proud mother goose showing off her goslings. Heronpaw hung back, waiting for his turn.

“I still can’t believe Blizzardstar let a kitty-pet become a warrior.” Slatefoot’s disgusted growl made Heronpaw whirl around, claws unsheathed, but Kestrelfeather got there first. He rounded on his denmate, fury flaring in his eyes.

“What did you just say?!” he snarled.

“Of course you would defend him.” Slatefoot shot back. Both warriors were on all four paws, claws out and teeth bared. “You share Blackmoth’s kitty-pet obsession.”

“You know as well as I do that Dawnheart has proven his loyalty to this clan ten times over.” Kestrelfeather spat. His tail was lashing. Slatefoot looked furious but didn’t reply. “I for one trust our leader. Do you, Slatefoot?”

“How dare you– of course I trust Blizzardstar.” Sputtered Slatefoot, taking a step back from Kestrelfeather’s bared teeth.

“Then act like it.” Kestrelfeather hissed. With that, Kestrelfeather turned his back on his clanmate.

Heronpaw twitched his ears at Slatefoot before turning around as well. Kestrelfeather took several long, deep breaths to calm himself.

A few tail-lengths away, Heronpaw could see his father Falconstorm sitting with Ferntail. The large tom’s amber eyes were fixed on Slatefoot, but he hadn’t jumped to Dawnheart’s defense like Kestrelfeather had. Heronpaw felt a stone of disappointment drop into his belly. Why couldn’t Heronpaw’s father be a cat like Kestrelfeather?

As the cheers and congratulations died down, Blizzardstar’s voice rang out again.

“All warriors and apprentices report to Whiteshade for duties. The clan meeting is now over.” With that Blizzardstar leapt down from his perch and disappeared into his den.

Warriors and apprentices alike stood up and made their way to the clan deputy. Heronpaw and Kestrelfeather padded over to the group together. The warriors all stood in a ring around Whiteshade. When everycat was present, Whiteshade started to speak.

“First things first, congratulations to our new warriors.” He gestured a white paw to Frayclaw and Dawnheart. They both nodded respectfully at their deputy. Heronpaw was pleased to hear an agreeable murmur go around the group.

“Anycat who is still recovering from battle can opt out of patrols for the day.” Whiteshade said. “If you fit that description, you may leave.”

Cherrynose and Stonepelt both rose to their paws and made their way back to the warrior’s den. Cherrynose was limping and Stonepelt still had a bloody cobweb patch on his shoulder.

“I need a volunteer to lead a patrol to the Willowclan border to make sure all is well.” Whiteshade continued.

“I volunteer.” Kestrelfeather called out.

Heronpaw felt a thrill of excitement. What an honor!

“Good.” Whiteshade grunted. “You should take three warriors with you and leave when the sun breaks the tree line.”

Kestrelfeather took one scrutinizing look at his fellow warriors.

“Frayclaw, Dawnheart, and Runningriver. You are with me today.” He decided. “We leave soon so don’t wander off.”

Kestrelfeather and Runningriver padded over to the fresh-kill pile to grab something before going out. Frayclaw and Dawnheart were still being fussed over by Spottedfur and didn’t look like they would be freed anytime soon.

Heronpaw stood kneading the ground with his paws. He wanted to go now but Whiteshade had ordered them to wait. He checked on the position of the sun. It wouldn’t be too long before the sun was completely above the tree line. He looked around, trying to find something to do to pass the time.

As if summoned by his thoughts, Hawkpaw and Crowpaw came bounding through the fern tunnel, each carrying fresh-kill and followed by their mentors. Heronpaw waved his tail at them and they waved back. He padded over to a nice spot near the apprentice’s den and sat, waiting.

His brothers flopped down next to him, each carrying a small finch. Before Heronpaw could speak, Hawkpaw spat his bird out of his mouth with a look of indignation. He opened his jaws and took a deep breath. Almost instantly he fell into a coughing fit. Heronpaw looked down at Hawkpaw, then back up to Crowpaw. Crowpaw’s ears drooped and he shook his head.

“Did you swallow a feather again?” He said in a flat tone. Hawkpaw continued to hack and cough and did not reply. Heronpaw purred.

“At least we are saved from the rant that was coming.”

Crowpaw grunted in agreement, sinking his teeth into his own catch.

“How was the dawn patrol?” Heronpaw said.

Crowpaw chewed slowly and swallowed. He opened his mouth to respond but Hawkpaw had finally emerged from his coughing fit.

“It was TERRIBLE.” He choked. “Swiftwing told me I did everything wrong. I looked bad because Talonscore wouldn’t stop talking about Crowpaw like he’s some sort of magic flying mouse.”

“No, you looked bad because you insisted on using a bird stalking technique on a rabbit.” Crowpaw retorted. 

Hawkpaw responded by burying his face in his finch.

“Then you swore you smelled Pineclan scent in a hole and tried to crawl in.” Crowpaw gave Heronpaw an exasperated look. “It was a badger.”

Heronpaw couldn’t suppress his mrrow of laughter.

“Why are you a magic mouse? What did you do?” he said, trying not to snort.

Crowpaw shrugged. He was avoiding looking at Heronpaw’s face “It wasn’t anything special. I chased a squirrel up a tree and then jumped down.”

Hawkpaw made a choking sound and emerged from his finch.

“You did a back-flip.” He protested. “And your stupid squirrel fell on my head.”

Heronpaw’s whiskers twitched in amusement at Hawkpaw’s exasperated expression. Crowpaw just shrugged again and didn’t say anything.

“That does sound magical.” Heronpaw purred.

Hawkpaw shot them an angry look from behind the mask of feathers that was his breakfast.

“What’s wrong with you? You seem distracted lately.” Heronpaw poked his brother with a forepaw. He remembered an event a quarter-moon ago when Hawkpaw had slammed face-first into a tree because he misjudged where the entrance tunnel was.

Hawkpaw’s tail was thrashing. He swallowed his enormous mouthful of finch in one gulp so he could speak. His gray eyes grew huge and began watering as the mouthful struggled to go down his throat. Crowpaw gave his brother a disgusted look.

He gave Hawkpaw’s tabby shoulders a firm thumping. “For Starclan’s sake, get it together Hawkpaw.” After another short coughing fit, Hawkpaw was finally able to speak. He didn’t even bother to breathe before explaining himself.

“It’s the pressure.” He gasped. His eyes were gleaming with anticipation and awe, as though he found the prospect of pressure exciting. “Blizzardstar, Falconstorm, and our mentors have been watching our every move. If we fail, we will never be warriors.” He took another enormous bite of finch.

Heronpaw flinched at the mention of their father. Falconstorm had always seemed to like Hawkpaw and Crowpaw more than him. Heronpaw wondered if that might change once he received his warrior name.

“I guess you’ll be the only elder whose name still ends in ‘paw’, then.” Crowpaw said. He twitched his whiskers, dislodging a small downy feather.

Without retorting, Hawkpaw hooked a bloody piece of his finch on a foreclaw and flung it at Crowpaw’s face. The morsel hit Crowpaw with a squelch. Crowpaw spat angrily, trying to rub the blood off of his black fur.

Heronpaw ducked his head and flattened his ears, expecting more flying entrails.

“Stop that. Ferntail would have our pelts if we were walking around camp looking like pieces of fresh kill.” He hissed.

Crowpaw looked at Heronpaw with unblinking eyes and slowly lowered his forepaw. An incriminating piece of finch was dangling from his claws. Hawkpaw bared his teeth in a triumphant smirk. Crowpaw just glared at him.

“By the way, you missed the ceremony.” Heronpaw added. His brothers looked at him, forgetting their quarrel.

Hawkpaw flattened his ears. “Seriously? I _hate_ the dawn patrol. I missed Cherrynose’s ceremony because of one too.”

“Did any cat argue this time?” Crowpaw asked.

Heronpaw shook his head. “No, thank Starclan. Slatefoot and Brushfire will have to accept Dawnheart now.”

“I still don’t get why they’re angry in the first place.” Crowpaw flattened one ear in confusion.

“He was born a kitty-pet.” Hawkpaw looked down his muzzle at Crowpaw with half-lidded eyes. “There are cats in every clan that will consider his warrior ceremony an offense to the Warrior Code.”

“You just repeated what Talonscore said this morning.” Crowpaw said dryly. His face was void of expression.

Crowpaw and Hawkpaw relapsed into their squabble. Heronpaw chanced a glance at the sun. It had hardly moved. With a sigh, he flexed his claws in and out, tearing up fern as he did so.

“Hello.” A soft mew from behind the three brothers made them all whirl around. Two she-cat apprentices were standing there, bundles of moss in their teeth. Heronpaw felt Hawkpaw leap to his paws almost immediately.

“Hi Morningpaw!” he exclaimed, slightly louder than necessary. “Would you like me to lend a paw?”

“Oh! No thank you Hawkpaw.” Morningpaw squeaked from around her ball of moss. Her pretty green eyes suddenly avoided Hawkpaw’s gaze. The she-cat looked like she hadn’t expected Hawkpaw to respond so enthusiastically. She put the moss down at her paws.

“Petalpaw is helping me.” She went on, keeping her head low. She gestured with her calico patterned tail to the apprentice at her side. Petalpaw dipped her tabby head in greeting, unable to speak around her large wad of moss.

“I see.” Hawkpaw said. He looked at Petalpaw as if he just realized she was there. There was a short silence.

“I saw that squirrel you caught the other day.” Hawkpaw suddenly blurted out. His voice was still rather loud and he was speaking rapidly. “I never expected somecat like you to catch something that big.”

Morningpaw looked confused.

“Somecat like me?” she said slowly. She lowered her gaze again. Her eyes were oddly shiny.

Hawkpaw’s eyes got huge and his tail dropped to the ground in horror.

“No! I didn’t- well what I meant was…” he trailed off, looking completely panic-stricken.

Heronpaw shot a sideways glace at Crowpaw to communicate how uncomfortable things were getting, but Crowpaw was busily shredding feathers off of his catch and avoiding everyone’s eyes.

Morningpaw shook her head with a forced purr. “It’s okay.”

There was another uncomfortable silence during which Heronpaw became extremely interested in a worm that was sticking out of the ground at his paws.

“Well, um, bye!” Morningpaw said. Her cheery mew was contradicted by her low hanging tail and nervously twitching ears. She turned and hurried away without giving Hawkpaw a chance to respond.

Petalpaw called after Morningpaw with a muffled meow. She shot Hawkpaw an apologetic glance and bounded after her sister.

There was a moment of silence between the brothers. Hawkpaw was still standing up, his head turned towards the medicine den where Morningpaw had been headed. Crowpaw was still focused intently on his finch. Heronpaw opened his mouth to say something, but changed his mind. He simply rose to his paws and stretched.

“See you guys later.” He said.

“Sure.” Hawkpaw muttered, not taking his eyes off of the medicine den. Crowpaw just grunted.

Heronpaw padded over to where Frayclaw and Dawnheart were standing. The crowd of well- wishers had dispersed finally, so Heronpaw could properly congratulate his friends.

“Congratulations!” He purred when he was close enough. He leaned forward and touched Dawnheart’s nose with his own.

“Thank you.” Dawnheart meowed. His eyes were still shining. “It means a lot.”

“Of course! You’re my clanmate.” Heronpaw said firmly. He glanced over at Frayclaw, who gave him an approving look.

“Looks like it’s almost time to go.” Dawnheart remarked, looking up to where the sun had finally risen above the tree line. Heronpaw couldn’t help but give a little skip. Finally!

Kestrelfeather and Runningriver appeared a moment later, swiping their jaws clean with their tongues.

“Ready?” asked Kestrelfeather. All four cats nodded. “Alright, let’s go.”

Kestrelfeather led the way to the fern tunnel. The rest of the patrol followed

“Glad to have you two in the warriors den where you belong.” Kestrelfeather purred over his shoulder at his new denmates.

Runningriver touched each new warrior lightly with her tail as she passed between them.

“Congratulations you two.” She said.

As the patrol approached the fern tunnel Kestrelfeather waved his tail and his patrol fell in behind him. Heronpaw took his place at Kestrelfeather’s heels.

The patrol made their way through the thick fern tunnel that acted as the only door in and out of Cedarclan’s camp. The old grove of red cedars not only hid the camp well, but also prevented outsiders from finding their way out of the maze-like terrain. There were no paths in Cedarclan territory. The soft brown dirt was always covered by mossy stumps and stones, ferns, and young trees. Only Cedarclan cats, born and raised, could navigate through the reddish trunks and sunlight dappled forest floor.

Heronpaw opened his jaws and breathed in the fresh forest air. Even though the sun had been up for quite a while, Heronpaw could still taste a chill. Leaf fall was here. Prey would soon burrow down for the cold season. Food would become scarce and the undergrowth would die. Heronpaw held comfort in knowing his Clan was strong and ready for the coming snow.

Cedarclan didn’t mid leaf fall as much as cats from other clans did. Their forest was thick with evergreens which did not have leaves to shed. There were other trees here too, like oaks and maples, but cedars dominated the landscape. Their wide, flat needles stayed green over all the seasons. Heronpaw liked the way the cedar’s needles created a canopy above his head. It always felt safe and quiet in his forest.

Kestrelfeather led his patrol through the trees. After weaving in and out of closely knit trunks, the ground slowly began to slope downward and the cats began to run. Fewer trees and more undergrowth began appearing. Ferns spread their tendrils over the stony ground. Bright green mosses covered almost every surface. The light here was green and soft. Heronpaw kept his mouth open, letting all of the familiar scents pass over his tongue. The smell of soft needles and dew laden ferns surrounded him.

This was home, familiar and friendly. What he wouldn’t give to finally have his warrior name. He could roam this forest with the knowledge that it fell on him to protect all within its borders. He would defend it with every drop of blood in his body if he needed to.

Heronpaw watched the green scenery flash by as he ran. As the trees came and went, he had his ears pricked and his eyes on the lookout for anything unusual. An unfamiliar white shape between two trees distracted Heronpaw momentarily. He thought to himself how strange it was for a dove to be this far under the canopy. He let his mind dwell on the strange sighting until he ran straight into Kestrelfeather. His mentor had inexplicably stopped.

“Watch where you’re going, Heronpaw.” Kestrelfeather meowed after he regained his balance.

“Sorry.” Heronpaw felt his ears flush with heat. “Why’d we stop?”

“Can you smell anything strange?” Kestrelfeather encouraged his apprentice. Heronpaw noticed that every cat’s eyes were on him. He quickly dropped his jaw and drew air over his scent glands.

“There might be Pineclan scent.” He concluded after a moment. Kestrelfeather nodded.

“That’s what I thought too. Heronpaw, I’d like you to go investigate. Stay low and out of sight. The scent is faint and stale, but you can’t be too careful. When you’re done, meet us at the riverbank.”

Heronpaw stood straighter. A mission! His mentor must want to evaluate his tracking skills.

“I won’t let you down, Kestrelfeather.” Heronpaw said. Kestrelfeather nodded and then signaled the rest of the patrol with his tail. Dawnheart gave Heronpaw a friendly wave of his tail as if to say ‘good luck’ before vanishing into the undergrowth.

Heronpaw focused and began padding quickly through the growth, his mouth held open to better scent underneath the wet leaves. The smell of the rival clan was faint and hard to detect among the pungent fern fronds, but Heronpaw was determined. He followed the traces for several tree-lengths, all the while nearing the Pineclan border.

After a while he lost the trail. He spun in circles, trying to find it again. As he inspected a tuft of dark fur caught on a stick, a sound of rustling ferns from behind him took him by surprise. Heronpaw jumped and turned, expecting to see some cat he knew. Instead he saw nothing.

“Hello?” he looked around, searching for the source of the noise. It had sounded so close. The perpetrator couldn’t have gone that fast. Sinking into a defensive crouch, Heronpaw took a few ginger steps in the direction that he heard the sound. He scented the air, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. He half expected Hawkpaw to burst forth from the ferns and tackle him to the ground, but it didn’t happen. Heronpaw straightened up, thinking maybe it was just a bird.

Standing directly in front of him was a pure white cat. Heronpaw yowled in surprise and fear. He lost his footing on a slippery fern frond and fell to the ground. He scrambled to his feet and looked wildly around for the cat. It was completely gone. His chest heaving, Heronpaw backed slowly into a tree. His claws were unsheathed and it felt like every hair on his pelt was on end. His wide eyes darted all around the scene, but the cat what nowhere to be seen.

“What in Starclan’s name…?” he gasped.

He blinked his eyes forcefully for a few heartbeats, trying to dispel the image from his mind. Questions flew like startled starlings around his brain.

 _Why didn’t I smell it? How did it get so close to me?_ _What_ was _it?_

“Heronpaw!”

Kestrelfeather’s yowl broke Heronpaw’s terrified silence.

“I’m here!” Heronpaw managed to croak.

Seconds later, three cats burst through the undergrowth and into the small clearing. Kestrelfeather raced to Heronpaw’s side while Dawnheart and Frayclaw looked wildly around for a threat.

“What happened?” Kestrelfeather demanded. He sniffed Heronpaw all over.

“Nothing. I’m fine.” Heronpaw said.

“We heard you yowl.” Dawnheart panted. His body was stiff with tension.

Heronpaw took a deep breath, sheathed his claws, and flattened his neck fur.

“I’m not hurt.” He said again. This time he directed the statement at Kestrelfeather who was still giving him a thorough once-over.

“Are you sure?” Kestrelfeather stopped his examination, but was reluctant to leave his apprentice’s side.

“Yes. I thought I saw something.” Heronpaw sighed. Yes. He had only imagined the white cat with its oddly empty eyes.

Frayclaw made an impatient ‘ _tch’_ noise before stalking back though the ferns. His gray tail tip was twitching with irritation. Heronpaw watched him go, his heart sinking.

He felt like a fool. Frayclaw obviously agreed.

“Don’t take him seriously.” Dawnheart said. He curled his tail around Heronpaw’s shoulders as they began walking back towards the main clearing. “He’s relieved. He just has a funny way of showing it.”

Heronpaw tried to meow back with good humor, but a lump of anxiety was stuck in his belly causing him to feel like he ate a bad mouse. Kestrelfeather stayed behind for a moment, sniffing the same tuft of fur Heronpaw had found. When his mentor had caught up, Heronpaw turned to him.

“I thought you had gone ahead.” he said. Kestrelfeather shrugged

“I needed to keep you within earshot in case it was Pineclan.” He said.

“I lost the scent in that clearing.” Heronpaw muttered, feeling defeated.

“I expected as much. The scent was probably carried by some prey that ran through a scent marker. Pineclan and Cedarclan are on good terms. I just wanted to see if you could follow it.” Kestrelfeather explained. His fur was flattened again and had stopped looking worried. Heronpaw wished he could feel his mentor’s calm as well, but the vision of the white cat was still fresh in his mind.

He had heard of visions from Starclan granted to medicine cats and clan leaders, but he had never heard of an apprentice receiving one. He gave himself a mental shake. Starclan wouldn’t have sent _him_ a message. He was just under stress and seeing things. That was all.

 _At least I didn’t_ smell _anything strange._ He reminded himself.

The patrol moved on after Runningriver had rejoined them after she had moved away to snag a squirrel from a tree. They moved in silence towards the Willowclan border. As they neared the boundary the trees started to change. There were less of Heronpaw’s beloved cedars and more of the twisted beech trees. Their gnarled roots threatened to trip any cat who was not paying attention, like the claws of a waiting fox.

As he ran, Heronpaw could smell the river approaching. They were nearing their destination. The rushing of water grew louder as the patrol picked their way down a steep, root-entangled slope that lead to the river bank. Heronpaw felt himself relax at the beautiful sight of the river.

The bank was hardly a bank at all. Descending layers of angular stone jutted out from the earthy slope and dropped off into the deep, clear blue water. Moss and saplings grew from every crack in the smooth gray stone. The water slid by, deceptively calm, but every cat knew that the current was too fast for even a full grown warrior to fight with ease. The water stretched for about a tree length before more flat stones marked the Willowclan side of the river. Their bank was steeper and had less vegetation. Heronpaw knew that Willowclan cats were adept at maneuvering their steep banks and swimming in the swift rapids. He was silently thankful for Cedarclan’s flatter territory.

As the patrol stepped out into the direct sunlight, Kestrelfeather made a quick headcount to affirm that everycat was there. His gaze lingered on Heronpaw a little too long for Heronpaw’s comfort.

_Does he know what I saw?_

“Our job is to scent for rouges and remark the border. Dawnheart and Frayclaw you take the waterfall. Runningriver and I will head downstream. Heronpaw will take this bank alone since his assessment earlier was interrupted. Yowl if there is trouble.” Kestrelfeather ordered.

The patrol obeyed and split into three groups. Soon Heronpaw’s clanmates had disappeared and he found himself alone. He scented all over the area, determined to catch a rouge scent. He did find a few, but they were stale. Most likely from the battle the day before.

After double checking that there were no fresh scents, Heronpaw marked the bank with his own scent. As he finished the last mark, a gust of wind carried the smell of a strange cat to his nose from across the river. He looked up, expecting to see a Willowclan patrol at the top of the embankment. What he saw instead made his heart nearly stop.

It was a white cat.


	5. River

Heronpaw tried to yowl but his body felt like stone. His eyes were stuck to the strange cat.   
It opened its jaws as if it was speaking but Heronpaw couldn’t hear anything over the rush of the river. The cat closed its mouth and turned to look over its shoulder.   
The moment eye contact broke Heronpaw felt his muscles release. He was just about to yowl after the apparition when three cats burst from the undergrowth and bounded straight towards it. Instead of colliding with it the WillowClan warriors ran straight through the white cat. Its form scattered like mist.   
Still stunned by what he just saw Heronpaw didn’t quite register that the WillowClan patrol was acting less than friendly. The largest of the group, a fierce looking white tom, stepped forward to the edge of the overhanging embankment.   
“What are you doing, apprentice?” he hissed. The tom curled his lips back in an unsettling sneer when Heronpaw didn’t answer.   
“Did you scare him Fogpelt?” A second cat meowed from behind his Clanmate.  
Heronpaw tried to stop his legs from shaking. He didn’t want these cats thinking they had frightened him.   
I also don’t want them knowing what did scare me.   
“Sorry, I didn’t notice you.”   
Fogpelt bared his teeth.   
“Are you trying to be smart?” he demanded.  
“No, I just-“  
“You CedarClan mangepelts better watch your backs.” Fogpelt interrupted with a hiss. “You may have driven off those foxhearted rouges but your borders might not be as safe as you think.”   
Heronpaw took a bewildered step back. Relations between all four Clans had been peaceful for moons. What was this sudden aggression?   
“Is that so? Shall I inform Blizzardstar of an official threat from WillowClan?” Kestrelfeather’s lofty mew came from downstream.  
Heronpaw felt a rush of relief wash over him. He turned to see his mentor and Runningriver padding around a large rock into view. Kestrelfeather took his place at Heronpaw’s right. Runningriver flanked the apprentice on his other side.   
The warriors fixed their eyes on the WillowClan patrol.   
Fogpelt took a step back. He recovered with a snarl.  
“My threat is my own.” The white warrior growled. His ears were flat to his head but his spine was stiff. As aggressive as his words were he was not going to instigate any fights. He was wise Heronpaw had to give him that.   
His two companions, however, looked like they wanted nothing to do with talk. They would rather speak with claws. The one who had spoken before, a wiry black tom, was flexing his claws on the stone. The other was a smaller cat, possibly an apprentice, who also looked eager to prove his fighting skills.   
“Runningriver. Go upstream.” Kestrelfeather said in a low voice. He gave the order without breaking eye contact with Fogpelt. Runningriver nodded and bounded away.   
“I’m surprised at you, Fogpelt. The honorable warrior I know wouldn’t be threatening an apprentice.” Kestrelfeather raised his voice so the enemy patrol could hear him over the rushing water.   
“I’ve done nothing to break the warrior code.” Fogpelt said. The white cat’s stance was firm, but his shifting eyes betrayed his nerves. Kestrelfeather’s words seem to have made an impression.  
Kestrelfeather took a step forward and arched his tail over his back. He cocked his head at a jaunty angle and showed his teeth.   
“Yet.” He hissed.   
Before Fogpelt could respond, there was a cry from upstream.   
“Kestrelfeather? What’s going on?”   
Heronpaw turned to see Dawnheart and Frayclaw bounding down the sloping bank to the pool. Dawnheart, who had made the inquiry, stopped at Heronpaw’s side. Frayclaw came to a stop at the opposite edge of the pool. His gray eyes made quick work of the situation. They came to rest on the black WillowClan warrior. Frayclaw’s ears lowered and his teeth began to show.   
Dawnheart was a little more oblivious to the situation. He looked at Kestrelfeather’s face and then at Fogpelt’s. His eyes widened with comprehension and he took a defensive stance at Heronpaw’s shoulder.   
“Hey, it’s that kitty-pet!” the WillowClan apprentice yowled. His tabby tail whipped back and forth gleefully.   
Heronpaw bared his teeth in anger. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Frayclaw arch his back. Dawnheart merely blinked and retained his composure.   
“There is no kitty-pet here.” Kestrelfeather hissed. He reverted to his cold expression and lowered his tail. The black tom peeked out from behind Fogpelt and sneered. His yellow eyes were fixed on Dawnheart.  
“Then why can I smell its stench from here?” he crowed.  
“Yarrowfang! Barkpaw! Shut your traps.” Fogpelt spat. He cuffed the apprentice over the head with a large paw. The warrior turned to do the same to his denmate, but Yarrowfang neatly dodged the blow.   
“Calm your fur Fogpelt.” Yarrowfang meowed. With a condescending glare down his muzzle at Dawnheart the WillowClan cat leapt down from the overhanging bank and onto a large flat stone in the river.   
“Yarrowfang get back here.” Fogpelt hissed.   
Yarrowfang ignored his Clanmate. He balanced on a stone only a few fox-lengths in front of Dawnheart. He lashed his black tail back and forth.   
“Kitty-pets don’t become warriors. They shouldn’t become warriors.” He hissed at Dawnheart. “You probably miss your kitty-pet bed and kitty-pet food, don’t you?” He took a cocky leap to a second damp rock.   
“Yarrowfang that’s enough!” Fogpelt snarled. His anger fell on deaf ears.   
Yarrowfang simply continued his taunts. “You’re a disgrace to your Clan. If you had any loyalty to them you would drown yourself in this river.” He snarled. His words were soaked in venom.   
Heronpaw was shaking with anger now. He wanted so badly to leap at Yarrowfang and claw his eyes out, but this was Dawnheart’s fight.   
“I am Clan-born at heart. I have never known anything beyond this life.” Dawnheart replied firmly.   
Yarrowfang snorted in disbelief.   
“If you’re so Clan-born prove it. Come defend your territory.” He leapt to a third boulder. This time he landed with his claws unsheathed and his teeth bared.   
The air was like a waterlogged pelt; thick and heavy with tension. Heronpaw could feel Kestrelfeather’s muscles tense.   
Frayclaw was also poised to pounce if Yarrowfang got any closer. Heronpaw kept his eyes fixed on the sneering warrior. He wanted to sink his claws into Yarrowfang’s slimy pelt.   
Dawnheart was the only CedarClan cat with his claws sheathed. He stared back at his antagonizer with complete calm.   
“I have proven it.” Dawnheart said. He took a few steps forward. “Yesterday I chased invaders off my territory. Today,” he raised a forepaw so Yarrowfang could see. “…my claws are still sharp.” He slid his long claws from their sheaths. They were thorn sharp.  
A rush of satisfaction hit Heronpaw when Yarrowfang’s strained voice did not reply. There was a moment of tense silence.   
Dawnheart continued to stare defiantly into Yarrowfang’s pinched face.   
Heronpaw was ready to turn his back on the WillowClan cats. They had won this fight of words.   
Without warning Yarrowfang crouched low and sprang. His outstretched claws were aiming right at Dawnheart. Before any cat could twitch a whisker Frayclaw shot from the bank and into the air. The gray warrior collided with his enemy mid-jump. They both fell with a tremendous splash into the freezing river.   
Cats from both Clans yowled in shock. Kestrelfeather immediately took off running down the bank. His eyes were trained on the bobbing gray head that was Frayclaw.   
Heronpaw bolted after his mentor. Fear made his heart pump painfully in his chest. The river was fast. Fast and cold.   
Heronpaw and Kestrelfeather raced along the stony bank. Out of the corner of his eye Heronpaw could see the WillowClan warriors doing the same on their bank. Frayclaw’s gray head was rising and falling under the surface in a violent struggle. There didn’t seem to be any sign of Yarrowfang.   
“Heronpaw! Log ahead!” Kestrelfeather shouted.   
Heronpaw understood and obeyed without question. The pair flexed their legs in unison. As one Heronpaw and Kestrelfeather overtook Frayclaw’s thrashing form and left him behind. The two cats veered off of the pebbly bank towards a fallen trunk that lay across the churning water. With a mighty leap Heronpaw launched himself onto the rough surface. Kestrelfeather landed beside him a half a breath later.   
By gripping the rotting bark with their claws Heronpaw and his mentor could drop their heads below the log. Blood was roaring in Heronpaw’s ears. They had mere seconds until Frayclaw reached them.   
The gray warrior lashed out with his paws for something to hold on to. His forepaw caught a branch from the fallen tree. With a tremendous effort Frayclaw wrenched his head around to grasp the branch with his teeth. He managed to stop himself for a heartbeat until the branch snapped off in his jaws and he was swept away again.  
“Ready!?” Kestrelfeather howled.   
“Ready!” Heronpaw shouted back.   
They both stretched out and grasped some of Frayclaw’s gray fur in their teeth.   
Frayclaw reached out with his own claws to grasp the bark.   
Heronpaw pulled upward as hard as he could. For a moment it seemed that they would be able to pull Frayclaw to safety. His muscles screamed in protest and he briefly wondered why Frayclaw was so heavy. He looked down into Frayclaw’s wild eyes and pulled harder.  
A sharp pain shot through Heronpaw’s right eye. It was so fierce that he relaxed his grip on the bark in shock. A black paw raked its claws across Heronpaw’s face. Reeling, Heronpaw lost his balance on the log. He toppled backwards with a cry into the churning water.   
The cold took his breath away. Water filled his ears, his nose, and his mouth. Disoriented, Heronpaw flailed in the freezing current.  
As he desperately tried to find out which way was up he felt the tug of his soaked fur dragging him to the bottom. Panic took over and Heronpaw thrashed his numb paws in the water. His head broke the foamy surface of the water and he heard distant yowling. He barely had time to gulp a lungful of air before a wave crashed over his head and forced him below.   
Without warning Heronpaw’s stomach dropped as he careened over a waterfall. He fell for only a moment, but the impact at the bottom of the fall made him choke as the breath was forced from his lungs. He tumbled over and over in the vortex of thundering water.   
He couldn’t see. He couldn’t breathe. Adrenaline was shooting through his veins like fire. Every second seemed to drag on forever.   
The river tossed his exhausted body to and fro like a dead mouse. He slammed into a large rock shoulder first and a searing pain shot through his whole leg. He tried to paddle with both forepaws but his injured leg refused to move. Water was surrounding his every sense. Lack of air combined with pain made his thoughts start to fade.   
_StarClan help me!_  
His head broke the surface again and he took a huge gulp of air. His mind cleared enough to register that another cat was near him. He felt teeth sink into his scruff and a familiar scent filled his mouth.   
_Kestrelfeather?_  
After a few moments of intense struggle Heronpaw felt stone underneath his pelt. He tried to help Kestrelfeather drag him up the rock’s surface, but his leg was still useless. Once the top half of Heronpaw’s body was free from the water Heronpaw felt his rescuer collapse beside him.   
Another set of teeth gripped Heronpaw’s scruff. This time the scent told him it was Dawnheart.   
Dawnheart hauled Heronpaw further up the rocks to safety. Once Heronpaw’s tail was clear of the rushing water Dawnheart hurried to Kestrelfeather’s side and pulled him up too.   
Heronpaw lay belly down on the rock with his head turned to the side and his right foreleg dangling uselessly over the edge of the rock face. He had a perfect view of Kestrelfeather’s heaving flank. Heronpaw tried to breath in deeply too, but found it impossible. Instead he made a gurgling sound and spat out a mouthful of water. He spent a few moments hacking up more water until he could breathe again.  
“Frayclaw?” Heronpaw croaked once his lungs were clear.   
“Fine.” Dawnheart panted.   
Heronpaw closed his eyes and let exhaustion coupled with relief wash over him.   
“You all right?” Dawnheart’s mew was full of concern.   
“My leg. Can’t move it.” Heronpaw grunted. The numbness in his face was wearing off. He could now feel the deep claw marks left by Yarrowfang. They stung.   
“You’ve dislocated it.” Kestrelfeather’s gruff voice indicated that the warrior was standing up.   
Heronpaw heard his mentor’s pawsteps circle around his head. Kestrelfeather bent down to sniff Heronpaw’s shoulder. He prodded it lightly with his nose.   
Heronpaw flinched away.  
“Yeah. That’s lucky. If it had broken…” Kestrelfeather’s mew trailed off and he didn’t say any more.   
“Can you sit up?” Dawnheart asked Heronpaw.   
“No.” Heronpaw replied. He was completely exhausted. All he wanted to do was sleep there and then.   
“We need to get you on the shore.” Kestrelfeather interjected. He padded over and grabbed Heronpaw by the scruff.   
Heronpaw had no choice but to use his painfully weak muscles. He steadied himself with his good forepaw so he could get his back legs in the right position. With Kestrelfeather and Dawnheart’s sturdy shoulders to support him Heronpaw got to his three uninjured paws. His Clanmates carefully stepped away from him so he could find his balance. Heronpaw glared through the pain, his eyes fixed on the opposite edge of the large rock.  
Yarrowfang exploded from the surface with a loud splash and grasped at a boulder with his claws.   
Heronpaw was so startled by the WillowClan cat’s sudden appearance that he toppled over. Dawnheart leapt to his side to steady him.   
Kestrelfeather padded over to Yarrowfang and dragged the sodden cat out of the river. He dropped the black cat’s scruff with a look of disgust.   
“What in StarClan’s name were you thinking?” He spat.   
Yarrowfang slowly sat up. He was breathing heavily and glaring up at Kestrelfeather with hateful yellow eyes. Kestrelfeather leaned down so he was muzzle to muzzle with Yarrowfang.  
“You almost killed my apprentice, my Clanmate, and yourself.” Kestrelfeather snarled. “Cougarstar will hear about this.” With that he turned and stalked back to Heronpaw’s side.  
“Come on. You need Plumleaf.” Kestrelfeather said in a calmer voice.   
“What about Frayclaw?” Heronpaw protested.   
“Runningriver is taking him home.” Dawnheart said.   
The three Clanmates made slow progress back to the bank. The outcrop of rock was full of water filled holes and sharp corners so each step had to be made with care. Heronpaw tried his best to hop alongside his mentor and friend. Once they reached the shore Kestrelfeather turned to Dawnheart.   
“Run ahead and fetch Plumleaf.” He ordered.   
Dawnheart looked uncertain.   
“Kestrelfeather you’re soaked.” he said. He avoided making eye contact with his superior.   
“I’m fine.” Grunted Kestrelfeather. “Go.”   
Dawnheart opened his mouth again but closed it before saying anything. Heronpaw shifted his full weight onto Kestrelfeather so Dawnheart could go. The pale tom sped off without another word and disappeared into the undergrowth.   
Kestrelfeather and Heronpaw continued their slow progression. A cool breeze chilled Heronpaw to the bone and soon he was shivering. Kestrelfeather pressed himself up against Heronpaw’s trembling flank. They picked their way through the undergrowth with shaking paws.   
After what seemed like moons they came to the bottom of the sloping hill that lead to the grove camp. Heronpaw looked up at it with dread. His leg already hurt so badly. He had no idea how he was supposed to climb the hill. Kestrelfeather looked discouraged too. He turned to Heronpaw and, upon seeing his apprentice’s face, spoke.   
“Let’s wait here.”   
Heronpaw merely nodded. He thought he might vomit if he opened his mouth. Kestrelfeather helped Heronpaw limp over to a clear patch of mossy ground and lie down.   
“I’ll hunt.” Kestrelfeather said.   
Before Heronpaw could argue Kestrelfeather had disappeared through the ferns.   
Heronpaw sat for a while in silence. The pain in his leg had lessened to a dull ache but he still was unable to move it. One of his eyes was swollen because of Yarrowfang’s claws and the other was stinging with tiredness. Every muscle in his body ached from his struggle against the current. Never in his life had he wanted so badly to be home in his nest.   
As his eyelids started to droop he became faintly aware of a white blur at the edge of his vision. The blur grew larger, causing Heronpaw to feel a twinge of concern. He forced his eyes open in order to rid his view of the spot. Instead of disappearing the blur came into sharp focus. It was a cat.  
A jolt of fear shot through Heronpaw. He whipped his head around to face the apparition, but it was gone.   
What is happening to me?! He thought. He squeezed his eyes shut.   
The sound of light pawsteps from Heronpaw’s left sent shivers down his spine.   
_Leave me alone!_   
A sensation that somecat was standing in front of him came over Heronpaw. He resisted the urge to cower like a kit. He shook, not from cold, but from fear.   
A soft breath passed over the left side of his face. The warm air ruffled his whiskers. The thing was very close to his ear. There was a moment where Heronpaw felt something soft like feathers brush his injured leg. He lay there completely stiff with his eyes clenched shut.   
It’s not really there. I just have to ignore it and it’ll go away. He thought. His heart was pounding so fast it hurt. It’s just the pain. I’m just imagining things.  
The feeling of a presence vanished. Intense relief washed over Heronpaw and loosened his clenched muscles. He slowly opened his eyes as a rustling in the undergrowth to his right announced the return of Kestrelfeather.   
Kestrelfeather entered Heronpaw’s line of vision a moment later, a mouse and a vole in his jaws. Heronpaw had never been more pleased to see his mentor or prey.   
“Everything okay?” Kestrelfeather asked in a muffled mew.  
“Yeah.” Heronpaw answered. His mew shook.   
Kestrelfeather padded over to Heronpaw’s side and put the fresh-kill down. He scrutinized Heronpaw with sharp green eyes.  
“You sure?” He asked. He touched his nose to Heronpaw’s forehead. “You seem a little warm.”  
Heronpaw twitched his ears.   
“Yeah.” He muttered. With a grunt of effort he stretched out his good paw and dragged the mouse towards him. He crunched down. The warm flesh did little to calm his churning belly. Heronpaw forced himself to gnaw on the prey.   
He could feel Kestrelfeather’s eyes on him like thorn pricks in his side. Heronpaw didn’t want to lash out at his mentor, but the combination of pain, fatigue, and confusion was quickly shortening his temper. He flicked his ears once and continued to munch on the mouse.   
Thoughts crowded Heronpaw’s mind. Why was he seeing the white cat? No cat would believe him! Was he going insane? His pain overcame his thoughts and shoved them away.  
The two sat eating Kestrelfeather’s catch in silence. The ache in Heronpaw’s leg was so great that he could hardly manage his mouse. After a meager attempt Heronpaw had to push the kill away and clamp his jaws shut to keep what he had eaten in his belly.   
Kestrelfeather was eyeing Heronpaw. The vole lay almost untouched at the warrior’s paws. After a moment Kestrelfeather got up. He padded over to his apprentice and laid down next to him. Heronpaw welcomed the warmth.   
Heronpaw was slowly succumbing to the swirling cloud of crippling exhaustion that hung low over his head and behind his eyes. He rested his chin on one paw and let his eyelids droop. His whole body shook with chills despite Kestrelfeather’s added body heat.   
There was rustling among the foliage on the slope. Kestrelfeather’s body stiffened, but he didn’t get to his paws. With great effort Heronpaw opened his eyes in time to see Dawnheart approaching him. He was closely followed by Plumleaf and her apprentice, Petalpaw. Behind them were Heronpaw’s brothers. He felt a muted sense of surprise at the sight of them.   
Kestrelfeather heaved himself to his paws.   
“Plumleaf, thank StarClan.” He said. His broken meow betrayed his tiredness. Plumleaf dropped the bundle of herbs she was carrying and began sorting them into piles with her small gray paws.   
“What happened?” She demanded. As Kestrelfeather explained Hawkpaw and Crowpaw rushed to Heronpaw’s side. Hawkpaw shoved his nose close to Heronpaw’s face.  
“Heronpaw!” Hawkpaw said. He paused as his gray eyes took in Heronpaw’s withered form. He made a noise like he had stumbled into a pile of fox dung. “What happened to your leg?”  
“Get away you furballs! He needs air.” Petalpaw’s impatient hiss came from behind the two apprentices. She pushed them aside and shooed them away. She bent over Heronpaw’s injured leg and sniffed it all over.   
Heronpaw was only half aware of what was going on. He felt a very sharp pain run down his leg. He flinched.   
“Does that hurt?” Petalpaw’s voice drifted to him from across a great distance.   
“Yes.” He grunted back from between clenched teeth.  
There was a moment of silence.  
“How about this?”  
“No.”  
“Can you feel this at all?”   
“No.”   
“Plumleaf, it’s definitely dislocated.”   
“You can fix that, right?” Hawkpaw’s worried mew came from somewhere to Heronpaw’s left.   
“Of course I can.” Plumleaf said impatiently. The medicine cat’s pungent herb encrusted scent enveloped Heronpaw as she examined him head to tail.   
“But he looks completely comatose. What’s wrong with him?” Kestrelfeather’s gruff voice was still shaking slightly.   
“Petalpaw. Feverfew.” The medicine cat said.   
A few seconds later, Heronpaw felt Plumleaf’s soft paws pry his mouth open. Another paw placed a lump of chewed up leaves on his tongue. He could feel their cool juices flow down his throat. With great difficulty he swallowed.   
“Good. That’s it.” Plumleaf said in a much softer voice than before. She stroked his throat with her paw to make sure that he swallowed. Almost immediately Heronpaw could feel the medicine working. His eyes began to clear up and his body stopped shivering.   
“Petalpaw, escort Kestrelfeather back to camp. Treat him for-“  
“Excuse me.” Kestrelfeather harshly interrupted Plumleaf’s orders. “I am not going anywhere.”  
Heronpaw’s head had cleared enough that he could raise it off the ground slightly. He looked up at his mentor and Plumleaf. To Heronpaw’s surprise, the fluffy medicine cat was staring the warrior down.   
“Heronpaw is my patient.” She snapped. “If you want him treated I suggest you do as I say.”   
“I’m fine.” Growled Kestrelfeather. He sounded tough but took a step back from Plumleaf’s sharp tongue.  
“You’ll get in my way. Like you are right now.” Plumleaf said. She continued to stare at Kestrelfeather with unblinking brown eyes. The warrior opened his mouth to protest, but only fragments of words came out.   
“Fine.” He relented. He gave one last frustrated look in Heronpaw’s direction before turning around and stalking off through the ferns. Petalpaw followed.   
Plumleaf sighed.   
“Mentors are worse than the apprentices.” She muttered.   
“How are we going to get Heronpaw home?” Dawnheart said. It was the first time he had spoken. Heronpaw had quite forgotten he was there, mostly due to the fact that the pale warrior wasn’t in Heronpaw’s direct line of sight.   
“He’s going to walk.” Plumleaf said in a matter-of-fact tone.   
“I’m going to what?” Heronpaw spluttered. He couldn’t imagine moving his leg let alone walking on it.   
“Hawkpaw. Make yourself useful and fetch a thick stick.” Plumleaf said, ignoring Heronpaw completely.   
The sound of Hawkpaw crashing through the undergrowth caused Heronpaw to start panicking. He watched Plumleaf separate some leaves. Her expression told him nothing about what was to come.   
“What can I do?” Dawnheart said. He took a step forwards and into Heronpaw’s eyesight. The usually well-groomed warrior was disheveled and dirty. Plumleaf looked up at him.   
“You can help fix his leg.” She said   
Dawnheart cast a nervous glance at Heronpaw.   
“Will it hurt him?” he said.  
“Yeah, will it hurt?” Heronpaw echoed. He felt his panic rising in his chest. Would somecat just tell him what was about to happen?   
“I got the stick!” Hawkpaw’s excited yowl interrupted the moment. He bounded into the scene. A branch thicker than a cat’s tail was clenched in his jaws.   
“Good. Give it to Heronpaw.” Plumleaf said. She licked her paw, dipped it into a bowl shaped leaf, and limped her way over to her patient. She held her paw out to him.   
“Lick.” She commanded. Heronpaw eyed the tiny black seeds that were stuck to her soft pad. He licked them up.   
“What are they for?” he asked. Hawkpaw padded up to his brother and offered him the stick. “What is this for?” he added.   
“Poppy seeds for pain.” Plumleaf said. She was busy examining his swollen shoulder. “The stick is also for pain.”   
Heronpaw couldn’t answer. He had taken the branch in his mouth already.   
“Dawnheart come here.” Plumleaf flicked her tail at the warrior. Dawnheart hurried over.  
“Put your paws here.”   
Heronpaw couldn’t see what they were doing, but he felt Dawnheart place his uncertain paws on either side of his friend’s shoulder blades.   
“Don’t be afraid to press down when I start. Hawkpaw, you make sure his legs don’t move.” Plumleaf said. “Crowpaw.” Her voice rose a little to get the apprentice’s attention.   
Heronpaw saw his brother slowly walk up to the medicine cat. His ears were flat and his blue eyes wide.   
“I need you to steady his head.” Plumleaf said.   
Crowpaw left Heronpaw’s line of sight as he circled around behind his head.   
“Paws on everyone.” Plumleaf ordered.  
Six paws pressed down all over Heronpaw’s body.   
“Look at me, Heronpaw.” Plumleaf said.  
Heronpaw met the medicine cat’s calm gaze with wide eyes. He felt his heavy breathing slow.   
“I’m going to fix your leg now. It’s going to hurt, but only for a moment. I’ll pull on the count of three, okay?”   
Heronpaw gave a tiny nod. His heart was pounding. The tiredness that had consumed him just minutes before was dissolving as fresh adrenaline pumped through his body.   
Plumleaf took Heronpaw’s injured leg in her mouth. He realized for the first time that his paw was completely numb. This thought barely escaped his mind when Plumleaf’s muffled count of “One!” sounded in his ear. Heronpaw squeezed his eyes shut and inhaled sharply in preparation for the pain that would come with the count of three.   
Instead of hearing the number two like he expected Heronpaw felt a sharp jerk and a bolt of searing pain. Amidst the breathtaking pain Heronpaw heard a sickening click and a snap. He tried to jerk away, but Crowpaw’s steady grip kept him still.   
Heronpaw bit down on the wood between his teeth. All his claws unsheathed as he uttered a guttural screech of pain.   
As quickly as it had come, the pain was gone. All that was left was a dull, pounding ache. Heronpaw managed to peel open his eyes. Plumleaf was sniffing his shoulder intently. She prodded the leg all over with a paw. Heronpaw was relieved to feel no more pain.   
“Well done!” Plumleaf said with a purr.   
A collective purr of relief came from every direction around Heronpaw’s head. Finally feeling like he could, Heronpaw tried to sit up. Plumleaf laid her forepaw on his good shoulder and pushed him back down.   
“I don’t want you walking yet.” She said. “That was harder than I expected.”  
She organized the other three cats into a party that could carry Heronpaw up the slope and back to camp. Heronpaw tried to listen, but a strange fog was clogging his thoughts. He hardly reacted when Dawnheart and Crowpaw lifted him off the ground and onto Hawkpaw’s back. Crowpaw hurried to Hawkpaw’s side to help bear his brother’s weight.   
As the procession made its way up the hill Heronpaw felt an overwhelming urge to drift off into sleep. His aching muscles slowly stopped their complaining as the poppy seeds took effect. After a short while (or a long while; Heronpaw wasn’t sure), they reached the fern tunnel and entered the camp.   
An explosion of sound met Heronpaw’s ears, jolting him out of his sleepy state. Cats flocked to the group. Heronpaw could hear a few welcome voices among the throng.  
“Heronpaw! Oh Heronpaw you’re alive!”   
That was Ferntail. He would’ve liked to see her.  
“He’s okay, right?”   
Frayclaw sounded unhurt, though drained. That was nice.   
“Let me see him. Move out of the way.”   
Kestrelfeather of course. Had he always sounded so funny?  
“Kestrelfeather get back in that den or so help me StarClan…!”   
Petalpaw was speaking to a warrior that way? She had guts.   
“Everycat move. Plumleaf needs to get through.” Whiteshade’s commanding voice rose above every other concerned meow.   
The noise died away as Heronpaw’s bearers entered the medicine clearing. Heronpaw heard the soothing sound of the bubbling stream that ran through the glade.  
Crowpaw and Hawkpaw carefully laid Heronpaw down into a nest of downy feathers at Plumleaf’s command. Exhaustion tugged at his conscious as he lay in the soft bedding. He purred as the feathers tickled his muzzle.   
Heronpaw drifted away to the sound of Plumleaf forcing Kestrelfeather to lay down and rest as well.   
Heronpaw took a long deep breath and felt his entire worn and wearied body relax.   
Sleep took him almost immediately. 


	6. Security

Heronpaw awoke rather suddenly from a thick and dreamless sleep. He laid motionless for a heartbeat, trying to figure out what it was that woke him. It hadn’t been pain. In fact, his muscles felt like they needed a stretch. Had it been a sound? Cold fear rushed through his veins. Had it been _it_?

His heart bounded in his chest at the thought of what he had seen the day before. Could the cat be here now? Is that what had woken him?

He took a few breaths to calm himself. He couldn’t smell or feel anything strange. After a moment Heronpaw slowly opened one yellow eye. He felt the scratches on his face sting. He had forgotten about those. Hissing slightly, Heronpaw surveyed the scene before him. Nothing really stood out. He opened both eyes and lifted his head. He was nested underneath an over-hanging lip of fern-draped rock. Other empty nests lined were lined up beside him.

He peered through the screen on ferns. No other cat was in the tiny clearing. Relief washed over him.

His momentary panic fading, Heronpaw opened his jaws in a mighty yawn. The stretch felt good. He would’ve quite liked to stand up and stretch every muscle in his body. Before he could get to his paws however, Petalpaw emerged from a crevice in the rock a few foxlengths away. She had a bundle of herbs in her jaws. Her green eyes did a double take when she caught sight of Heronpaw. Her tabby tail shot up in delight. She hurried over to him and dropped the herbs next to the nest.

“You’re awake!” she said. She proceeded to sniff him all over.

“Yeah.” Heronpaw replied. It took him several tries to get the word out. His voice felt as though it hadn’t been used in days. How long had he been asleep?

“You look good. No pain?” Petalpaw said. She started closely examining his injured shoulder.

“No. Just sore.” Heronpaw croaked. He suddenly realized what had woken him. “Water?”

Petalpaw looked up from her work and gasped.

“I’m sorry!” She dashed over to the little gurgling stream at the edge of the clearing. She expertly stripped some moss off of a nearby tree root and dipped the clump in the stream. Petalpaw bounded back, the glistening moss sprinkling the ground with its precious burden.

Heronpaw stretched out his neck, desperate for a taste of the sweet, cold droplets. When Petalpaw was near enough, Heronpaw didn’t hesitate to start lapping at the dripping moss. After he had sucked all of the moisture out of the bundle, Petalpaw dashed off to get some more.

It took four more trips for Heronpaw’s thirst to go away. After he had drunk his fill he swiped his tongue around his whiskers.

“How long was I asleep?” he said, slightly out of breath.

“A full day.” Petalpaw replied. She took a seat next to Heronpaw’s nest and began sorting through the bundle of herbs she had been carrying. Heronpaw watched as she unrolled a tightly wrapped leaf to reveal a variety of soft yellow flower petals.

“Where is everyone?” Heronpaw said. The nests around him were notably empty.

Petalpaw looked up at him, flicking her ears to indicate confusion. Her mouth was full of leaves she was chewing into a pulp.

Heronpaw reworded his original question. “Frayclaw and Kestrelfeather fell in the river too. Shouldn’t they be here resting?”

Petalpaw spat the pulp out onto a large leaf and began squeezing the juice out of the yellow petals.

“They were here last night. Plumleaf couldn’t keep them here any longer if she tried.” The medicine cat apprentice said. She mixed the pulp and juice together, creating a runny poultice. She paused for a moment, staring down with unblinking eyes at the herbs she had in front of her.

“What are you forgetting?”

Both apprentices jumped at the sound of Plumleaf’s voice. Heronpaw turned to see the gray medicine cat pushing her way through the thick fern tendrils. She padded over to give Heronpaw a sniff, then turned to face her apprentice.

“Well?” she said. She flicked her ears a few times in Petalpaw’s direction.

“I have marigold juice and celandine paste.” Petalpaw said. She kept her head down as she shifted through the pile of leaves at her feet.

“Heronpaw has cuts on his eye.” Plumleaf said. “What else do you need in that ointment?”

Petalpaw stared down at her mixture for a heartbeat. Then she slowly raised her head.

“Nothing.” She said. Her worried expression was gone, replaced instead with confidence.

Plumleaf purred and nodded.

“Good.”

Petalpaw pulled the leaf over to Heronpaw’s nest and began spreading the balm over his scratches.

“Close your eye.” She ordered. Heronpaw did as he was told. The remedy stung slightly as it was applied, but the discomfort quickly faded. He couldn’t help put purr as cool relief spread over his face.

“How are you feeling Heronpaw?” Plumleaf said. She sat and began sorting through Petalpaw’s herbs.

“I feel good. A little sore and hungry though.” Heronpaw meowed out of the side of his mouth. He was trying to keep from disturbing Petalpaw’s work by moving too much.

Plumleaf hooked a fat yellow flower head to her foreclaw and got to her paws.

“Chew this.” She said, offering it to Heronpaw. He took it with his teeth and chewed. The taste wasn’t like any herb he’d ever tried. It wasn’t bitter or pungent. It was pleasantly earthy and nutty. He swallowed the flower and licked his lips.

“That will ease the soreness.” Plumleaf told him.

Meanwhile, Petalpaw had finished applying her poultice and went to wash her paws in the stream.

“So when can I go back to apprentice duties?” Heronpaw said. He was careful about how he posed his question. Plumleaf was known for her impatience with equally impatient sick or injured cats. Yesterday wasn’t the first time she and Kestrelfeather had butted heads.

“We will see.” Plumleaf said. She waved her tail, dismissing his question like a bothersome cobweb. “Can you stand?”

Heronpaw planted his good paw underneath him and pushed upward. His sore muscles simultaneously cried out and sighed as he stretched them. He was able to get to three paws with a little effort. He stood with his injured leg hovering above the ground. He was a little apprehensive about trying to put any weight on it.

“Go on. Test it out.” Plumleaf said. Her voice had switched again from harsh to gentle. 

Petalpaw had returned from the stream. She took her place at Heronpaw’s good shoulder, waiting to steady him if he fell. Heronpaw took a deep breath and began to lower his paw. Before he could touch the ground, however, another unexpected voice caused him to lose his balance and almost topple over.

“Is he awake yet?”

Kestrelfeather had entered the den unannounced, followed by a crowd of Heronpaw’s other friends and family. Plumleaf’s motherly demeanor vanished as she whirled to face the crowd of visitors. Her brown eyes smoldered in her kindly face.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded. She stalked right up to Kestrelfeather and looked him straight in the eye. Even though she was at least a head shorter than the warrior, it was undoubted which cat was in control.

“What possessed you to barge in here? This is a medicine den for StarClan’s sake!”

Kestrelfeather didn’t look remotely abashed. On the contrary, he tried to contend with Plumleaf’s dominant air by puffing out his chest and looking down at the gray medicine cat.

“I wanted to see my apprentice.” He said.

His command of the situation lasted all of three heartbeats before his confidence wilted under Plumleaf’s withering presence. Kestrelfeather dropped his gaze and backed up a few pawsteps.

“And the rest of you?” Plumleaf demanded. “Anything to say?”

She had cut down the strongest of the group with a simple look. What could she do to a cat like Dawnheart? Heronpaw felt amused and fearful at the same time.

The rest of the group exchanged worried glances.

“I thought so.” The medicine cat said. There was a finality in her meow that no cat could deny. The group of well-wishers slowly began to backtrack through the leafy entrance. Heronpaw waved his tail at each cat. He wanted them to know that at least _he_ appreciated their visit.

“When _can_ we visit him?” All eyes fell on Crowpaw as he spoke.

Heronpaw was amazed that his usually quiet brother had been the one to speak up.

Plumleaf opened her mouth but didn’t say anything. She too was looking at Crowpaw as though he had sprouted wings and flown away.

“You can come see him after sunhigh.” Petalpaw piped up from Heronpaw’s shoulder. “Now shoo!” She flicked her tail at the group.

They all turned and began filing out of the clearing with murmurs and grumbling. Before Kestrelfeather left, he looked over his shoulder at Heronpaw. Heronpaw waved a reassuring tail at his mentor. Kestrelfeather visibly relaxed and nodded. He then disappeared with a flick of his reddish tail.

“Well I never.” Plumleaf said, her tail twitching with irritation. She stomped back to her cave and went out of sight.

Heronpaw and Petalpaw looked at each other.

“I suppose you’re my responsibility now.” Petalpaw said. Her whiskers were quivering in amusement.

Heronpaw spent the afternoon doing special stretches and hopping three-pawed around the clearing. Petalpaw followed his every step, coaching as they went.

“Let’s try your injured paw now. No good? Okay let’s do some more stretches then.”

“Left, right, left, right, and forward, back, forward, back…”

“One more lap. You can do it come on!”

Plumleaf came and went throughout the day. Sometimes she would sit and watch, making comments here and there. Other times she would dart in and out of her storage den several times in a short period of time, muttering all the while.

By the time the sun was getting low in the sky, Heronpaw felt as though he had been through a full day of combat training. He collapsed back in his nest the moment Petalpaw announced that their workout was “enough for one day”. He gave himself a thorough wash while Petalpaw was off fetching some fresh-kill for the both of them. When she returned, the apprentices sat together to eat.

“Why do I have to exercise so much?” Heronpaw said. He gratefully took the large vole Petalpaw was offering him.

“If you don’t stay active then your muscles will get weak.” Petalpaw explained. “And since you fell in the river and got chilled, staying active will keep you from getting sick.” She took a bite of her squirrel.

“I see.” Heronpaw said. He chewed his mouthful slowly and swallowed. 

The two spent the rest of the meal discussing trivial things. When they had both eaten their fill, Heronpaw’s mind started to wander back to the events of the previous day. Should he ask Petalpaw about the white cat? He wondered if she could tell him what the visions meant, or if they were real at all. There was a lull in the conversation while Petalpaw cleaned her paws and whiskers. He hesitated for a moment. Should he ask? Would she think he was crazy?

“Hey Petalpaw, I have a-“

His question was cut off abruptly by another unexpected visitor.

“Hello?”

Both apprentices looked up to see a pretty calico she-cat poking her head in through the entrance. It was Ferntail. Heronpaw was pleased to see his mother. The heavy thoughts weighing on his mind dulled as he took in her familiar face and scent.

“May I visit with Heronpaw now?” Ferntail said in her soft mew.

“Of course!” Petalpaw said. She scrambled to her paws. “I’ll give you some privacy.”

The tabby apprentice padded past Ferntail and out into the main camp. Ferntail watched her go and then turned her attention to Heronpaw. She hurried to his side, her green eyes full of worry.

“Heronpaw I’m so glad you’re all right.” She gave the top of his head several licks. “I’m so proud of you. Your father is too.”

Heronpaw froze at the mention of Falconstorm. Ferntail sensed his discomfort and stopped her grooming. She sat down next to his nest and put one of her paws over his.

“He would be here but he’s on the evening patrol.” Ferntail said.

Heronpaw was avoiding his mother’s eyes. He highly doubted that Falconstorm would’ve been there with him, regardless of warrior duties or not. Ferntail seemed to understand that Heronpaw didn’t want to talk about his father. She changed the subject.

“How is your leg?”

“It’s fine. Petalpaw has been helping me stretch it.” Heronpaw said. He was grateful to Ferntail for noticing his reluctance to talk about Falconstorm. “I can’t put all my weight on it yet, but Plumleaf says I should be back to full apprentice duties in a quarter moon.”

Ferntail purred.

“That’s wonderful.”

They talked for a little while longer. Heronpaw described the events leading up to his injury. Ferntail listened intently. He got to the part where he had seen the white cat and he stopped. Ferntail tilted her head.

“I, uh, saw something weird.” Heronpaw admitted. His mother’s eyes grew curious. 

“What was it?” she urged.

Heronpaw hesitated. Uncertainty and fear had a grasp on his tongue and wouldn’t let go. He felt like if he spoke the words it would become real. Right now it was an event he could forget. If he tried hard enough.

“Just a cat I didn’t recognize.” He said quickly. Ferntail searched his face with earnest eyes.

“Oh.” She said after a moment. There was silence between them. Heronpaw felt the awkwardness crawling under his pelt like ants.

“Anyway, so then the WillowClan patrol shows up and-“

He continued the story, trying to act like nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Ferntail went back to listening sincerely but Heronpaw could see the worry in her eyes. Thankfully she didn’t press him again.

As the sun started to turn the sky orange and pink, more visitors arrived. Hawkpaw, Crowpaw, and another apprentice, Specklepaw, came bounding into the medicine clearing all at once. Ferntail said her goodbyes and left Heronpaw to brag about his injuries to his peers.

While Crowpaw sat quietly with his black tail curled around his paws, Hawkpaw and Specklepaw were clamoring for details about the “battle” with WillowClan.

“It wasn’t a battle.” Heronpaw repeated for the fifth time. “Yarrowfang came at Dawnheart and Frayclaw stopped him.”

“Did somecat bleed?” Hawkpaw demanded.

“Yes! Me.” Heronpaw said. He was getting a little exasperated.

“Ah-HA!” Specklepaw burst out. She leapt to her paws as though she had caught Heronpaw in an incriminating lie. “Blood was spilled. That makes it a battle.”

Hawkpaw nodded so hard his ears flapped. Heronpaw glanced over at Crowpaw. Their eyes met in a meaningful glance.

 _I’m glad you’re alright._ Crowpaw’s ardent blue gaze said.

Hawkpaw and Specklepaw only stayed for a short period. Hawkpaw jumped to his paws and announced that he needed to sleep because he was chosen for the dawn patrol again. Specklepaw followed him.

After the others left, Crowpaw got to his paws as well.

“Are you leaving? That’s too bad. I was looking forward to some real conversation.” Heronpaw said with a good humored twitch of his whiskers.

Crowpaw swept his tail over Heronpaw’s ears with a purr.

“Don’t go falling in any more rivers, okay?” he said.

“That I can’t promise. But I can try.” Heronpaw replied, also purring.

A rustling of leaves announced another visitor. This time it was Petalpaw. Heronpaw called out a greeting. Petalpaw looked up from the huge bundle of freshly picked herbs she was carrying. She gave Heronpaw a friendly wave of her tail and then turned her head to see who was with him.

As her eyes fell on Crowpaw she raised her tail again to greet him and stopped looking where she was going. Her paw caught a protruding root and she lost her footing. She managed to stay upright but ended up losing her grip on the herbs. They exploded around her in a cloud of pungent green confetti.

Crowpaw leapt forward and helped steady Petalpaw’s precarious arrangement.

“Are you alright?” Heronpaw called.

“Fine!” Petalpaw said lightly. She started to gather the herbs back into a neat pile with her small white paws. Crowpaw bent down to help her without saying anything.

“Thank you.” Petalpaw purred to Crowpaw as he scraped several fuzzy leaves together. Crowpaw looked up at her. Their eyes met for a moment and Crowpaw’s eyes grew huge. Petalpaw blinked. Heronpaw looked from one face to the other, confused.

“I can take it from here.” Petalpaw said kindly. She tugged a flower head out from under Crowpaw’s forepaw. His claws had pinned it to the ground. The black apprentice jolted slightly and dropped his gaze to his paws. He stepped back and let Petalpaw re-bundle the pile.

Crowpaw shot a sideways glance at Heronpaw before excusing himself with a muttered comment about duties. He bolted from the clearing a heartbeat later.

Heronpaw watched him go, anxiety churning in his belly. He had seen the same look in Hawkpaw’s eyes when he looked at Morningpaw. His brother couldn’t have a crush on the medicine cat apprentice! Everything about it broke the Warrior Code.

Petalpaw gathered up her herbs and disappeared into Plumleaf’s den without another word.

Once again, Heronpaw found himself alone. He hated it. Without distractions his mind was forced to dwell on the dull ache in his shoulder and the thoughts of the white cat. A hot stinging ball of anxiety formed in his chest and his breaths felt too shallow. It was like he couldn’t quite fill his lungs no matter how much he relaxed his body.

A rustling sound caused Heronpaw to jump. He whipped his head around to see a pair of auburn ears poking their way through the fern screen and into the clearing. Kestrelfeather emerged followed by Dawnheart and Frayclaw.

The storm in Heronpaw’s belly quieted a bit.

“Is Plumleaf around?” Kestrelfeather said. He looked around, his tail twitching.

“Nope.” Heronpaw forced a purr. “You’re safe.”

“For now.” Kestrelfeather grunted. He padded over to Heronpaw’s nest and sat down. The other warriors followed and settled down as well. Kestrelfeather looked down at his apprentice.

“How are you?” he said.

“I’m doing pretty well.” Heronpaw said. “Hawkpaw came to see me so I’m pretty exhausted.”

Frayclaw twitched his whiskers in amusement.

“Quite the furball that one.” He said. Dawnheart _mrr’_ ed in agreement.

“You’re telling me.” Heronpaw purred.

“You did well yesterday.” Kestrelfeather said suddenly.

Heronpaw felt his ears grow warm under his mentor’s praise.

“I just did what you taught me.”

“But you did it well. That is what counts.” Kestrelfeather flicked Heronpaw with his tail. “I’m proud of you.” He added.

“You saved Frayclaw’s life.” Dawnheart put in. His blue eyes were shining with admiration. Frayclaw was nodding at his friend’s side.

“Did I?” Heronpaw couldn’t help but ask. His ears flattened under the praise from the warriors. Surely he hadn’t done anything that special. Besides he still felt like the entire conflict could’ve been avoided if he hadn’t been distracted by…that thing.

“Yes.” Frayclaw said. The word was firm and final. “I wanted to thank you.”

Heronpaw accepted the thanks without argument. He returned Frayclaw’s bow and met the warrior’s solemn gaze. His belly squirmed again.

Kestrelfeather glanced at Dawnheart and twitched his ears.

“We’ll give you two some privacy.” Dawnheart said, nodding to the senior warrior.

The young warriors dipped their heads to Heronpaw and rose to their paws. With a final nod of respect to Heronpaw they left.

There was a moment of silence. Then Kestrelfeather spoke again. His tone was much different this time. It was more solemn.

“Your recovery is going to put you back in training.”

Heronpaw looked down at his bedding. He began shredding a clump of moss with his claws. He hadn’t thought about that until now.

“Blizzardstar wanted you to know that this probably means that your brothers will become warriors before you.” Kestrelfeather’s meow was flat. Heronpaw could hear his mentor’s discontent behind every word.

“I see.” Heronpaw said. He still wasn’t looking at Kestrelfeather’s face. There was another moment of heavy silence.

“I don’t want you feeling like that makes you less of a warrior.” Kestrelfeather finally said. Again, his voice sounded different. Heronpaw looked up, taken aback. He had hardly ever heard his uncle talk like this before.

“I know you struggle with seeing yourself as good enough.” He continued. Kestrelfeather looked down at Heronpaw’s stunned face.

“When you get your warrior name it will be because you deserve it. It will be because you work harder than any other cat. It will be because your loyalty and bravery are never doubted. And it will be because you are ready.”

Kestrelfeather leaned down to give Heronpaw a firm lick on the forehead. When he drew away, Heronpaw could see pride burning in his mentor’s green eyes. Before Heronpaw had even found his voice in order to respond, Kestrelfeather continued.

“Blizzardstar thinks that WillowClan may be looking for a fight.” He said. “We’ll need every cat to be ready in case that happens, so do everything Plumleaf says. She’ll have you back to training in no time.”

Heronpaw straightened up and nodded firmly. He could do that.

Kestrelfeather’s gaze darted around the clearing.

“I have to go. If Plumleaf finds me here she’ll have my pelt.” He looked down at his apprentice one last time with a joking twitch of his whiskers.

Kestrelfeather made his way over to the exit gap. Heronpaw watched him go.

“Thank you.” He called after his uncle. Kestrelfeather paused before he went through the leaves.

“No problem.” His jaunty meow was back. “If I see Falconstorm I’ll send him in.”

Heronpaw felt a rock fall into his stomach. What did he need Falconstorm for? Fathers were supposed to be proud of you. They were supposed to teach you and make you strong. Kestrelfeather did all of that already.

After his mentor had gone, Heronpaw readjusted himself in his nest. He rested his head on his outstretched paws and sighed. He watched the sun’s final rays start to disappear through the trees. His thoughts that he had tried so hard to chase away were rumbling at the edge of his mind like an approaching thunderstorm.

A day ago he had woken as a healthy apprentice in a Clan that was strong and at peace. Now everything was wrong. He was going to be stuck in this medicine den for StarClan knew how long, and even if Plumleaf could heal his wounds it seemed his mind was also dislocated.

The visions he was seeing couldn’t mean anything good, but who was he to tell? He could be accused of lying or thought to be insane. His warrior ceremony could be pushed back even _further_. If his Clan was in danger of a war they needed every warrior they could get.

Fear, confusion, and anxiety swirled in his belly like a writhing pit of snakes. His breaths came shallow again and he found himself gripping the edge of his nest with unsheathed claws. He pushed his face into the moss and feathers and tried to calm down. He stayed like that until night had fallen.

When darkness finally fell, Plumleaf returned to the clearing. Heronpaw squeezed his eyes shut and pretended to be asleep. Plumleaf sniffed at his cuts and gently prodded his shoulder. Her touch drew away and he heard the shuffle of leaves near his head. A moment later Plumleaf heaved herself to her paws with a huff and padded away to her den.

After a few heartbeats of silence, Heronpaw opened one eye. An upturned leaf lay beside his nest. Laying on top were two tiny black poppy seeds. Obviously Plumleaf had not bought his ruse. He leaned over and licked them up gratefully.

Heronpaw laid still in the chill night air and waited for the poppy seeds to take effect. With every beat of his heart he felt his anxiety fade. He sighed, feeling his chest relax again.

He gratefully gave in to the closing darkness and calm that the poppy seeds brought. Within a few minutes he had fallen deeply asleep.

. . .

Heronpaw’s eyes shot open. Pain shot through his injured eye. For a moment he panicked, unable to see anything. It took him a few seconds of unwarranted alarm to realize that it was still the middle of the night. He groaned and rolled over, trying to get back to sleep.

An odd pricking sensation in his back set his fur on end. Heronpaw rolled over again, trying to get comfortable. When he finally had settled again, he opened his lids slightly. A pair of bright white eyes greeted his gaze.

Heronpaw jumped so violently that he fell out of his nest. He managed to avoid landing on his injured shoulder, but pain still shot up his leg. He scrambled to three paws, ready to cry out if something was there. He scanned the entire clearing and even squinted at the trees beyond the stream. Nothing. No white shapes. No glowing eyes looking at him from the brush.

He breathed heavily for a few moments, trying to pull himself together. As his heart slowed, the pounding in his ears lessened. He curled himself tightly into a ball and squeezed his eyes shut.

He did not sleep well that night.


	7. Recovery

“That’s it. Keep Going!”

Plumleaf and Petalpaw were sitting comfortably at the edge of a mossy forest clearing while Heronpaw struggled to limp around in circles.

After his fitful night of sleep, Heronpaw had been rudely awakened at sunrise by the medicine cats. It was now past sunhigh and Heronpaw was quite done with his therapy. His muscles ached and his injured foreleg throbbed.

“Am I finished yet?” he panted. He flopped to the ground after what felt like the thousandth lap around the hollow. Plumleaf gave her fluffy chest fur a couple of licks and heaved herself to her paws.

“I suppose so.” She sniffed. “Petalpaw, take him back to the camp.”

The gray medicine cat swished her plumy tail through the air as she gave the order. Petalpaw rushed forward to help her patient to his paws.

“I’ll see you back at the den. I have some things to collect.” Plumleaf mewed over her shoulder. She didn’t give Petalpaw a chance to respond before she disappeared through the brush.

“Is she always so blunt?” Heronpaw said. He shifted his weight so his painful leg could hang more comfortably. He sighed at the relief. Petalpaw leaned her shoulder against Heronpaw’s for support. Together they began the walk back to camp.

“Well, yes, but you get used to it.” Petalpaw said once they had cleared the heavier undergrowth.

“She seems like a tough mentor.” Heronpaw said.

“So does Kestrelfeather.” Petalpaw retorted. “But I know she cares about me and wants me to be the best medicine cat I can be.”

Heronpaw gave an accepting grunt. The pair walked in silence for a while. Heronpaw flicked his ears a few times, trying to decide whether or not to bring up the sightings of the white cat. On one paw Petalpaw could know what to do. On the other she could tell Plumleaf or Blizzardstar. Then what? Would they force him to become a medicine cat? Would they decide that he was as crazy as a fox in a fit and deny his warrior name? Heronpaw shook his head. A few hallucinations didn’t make a medicine cat. Nor did they mean he was crazy. Maybe Petalpaw could give him something that would make them stop. Heronpaw took a deep breath. He had to say something.

“Petalpaw?” His resolve cracked. Petalpaw turned, her green eyes curious.

“What’s up?” she said. Heronpaw paused. He couldn’t just blurt out everything. He decided to be more discreet. Maybe he could get some information out of her without her catching wise.

“Um, what made you decide to be a medicine cat?” He said quickly. Petalpaw’s ears perked up.

“Oh!” her tone was pleasantly surprised. “Well at first I didn’t. I wanted to be a warrior alongside my sister and mother, but one night before we were of age, I had a dream. Here, help me pick these dandelions for Plumleaf.”

The pair sat down in the clearing they had wandered into. Heronpaw began nipping the fuzzy yellow heads from the milky stems while Petalpaw used expert claws to shred the leaves into a pile. She continued.

“I dreamt that the Clan was in a battle. I saw a cat that was running through the fight. She was so brave and focused. She found another cat that was injured and she stopped his bleeding and reassured him he would be okay. Then everything changed and I saw her at the side of a birthing queen. She brought kits into the world with such ease.” Petalpaw stopped her shredding and her eyes glowed with the memory.

“I watched her at the side of her leader giving advice and counsel. I saw her under the moon tree surrounded by StarClan as they accepted her into their ranks. I was so impressed by her strength and wisdom. She was confident and beautiful.” Petalpaw closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them again they were brimming with emotion.

“Before she left with StarClan she turned to look at me. When our eyes met I knew. She was _me._ I had watched my life unfold before me. A life I had never even considered for myself. But know I know I was always meant to be a medicine cat, and my goal is to become _that_ medicine cat.”

“Wow.” Heronpaw breathed. He locked eyes with Petalpaw. “That’s amazing.”

Petalpaw flattened her ears in embarrassment. Her gaze dropped to her paws.

“I’ve only told that whole story to Plumleaf and Morningpaw. You’re really easy to talk to Heronpaw.” She said quietly. Heronpaw’s ears started to get hot, though he didn’t really know why.

“How did you know the dream was from StarClan?” he said, trying to change the subject. He didn’t like how Petalpaw’s gaze made his pelt tingle.

“I just knew. There was this feeling of surety and a _presence_.” She paused before emphasizing the word.

Heronpaw nodded. He had felt a presence for sure but Petalpaw seemed to describe a life changing event that had a clear message. Heronpaw hadn’t experienced that at all. But he had to know more.

“Can anycat receive a message from StarClan?” he asked. Petalpaw shot Heronpaw a glance. Her head tilted to the side.

“I’m not sure. Why?” The question was sharp. Heronpaw looked at her concerned face and suddenly didn’t want to tell her about his visions.

“No reason.” He tried to mew casually. His façade did not work. Petalpaw turned serious.

“Heronpaw if you’ve been having dreams you can tell me.” Heronpaw’s gaze dropped to his paws. He had to find a way to get Petalpaw off the scent.

“I have been having dreams about…” he threw his mind around. “Drowning.” He settled. His lie worked. Petalpaw’s gaze softened.

“Oh. Don’t worry, you’ve had a trauma and you’re bound to have a nightmare or two.” She said, laying her tail on Heronpaw’s spine.

“I can give you some more poppy seeds to help you sleep without dreams. Would you like that?” Her tone was that of a medicine cat talking to her patient again. Heronpaw nodded, relieved.

“We should get you back to camp.” Petalpaw mewed. She gathered up the dandelion leaves in her jaws and stood. Heronpaw carefully took the flowers in his teeth and followed the medicine cat apprentice as she padded back towards camp. Heronpaw sighed inwardly. How was he supposed to get answers if he was so afraid to say anything? He shook his head in annoyance. It should’ve been easy to talk to Petalpaw. She had always been kind to him and discreet. He glanced up and watched her tabby body sway between ferns, her dainty white paws picking their way over rocks and plants. When did she become so pretty? He found himself staring at the movement of her legs, heat creeping up through his ears. He knew that medicine cats could never take a mate, but surely it was fine to admire her, right?

The two apprentices entered the fern tunnel into the camp. The change of scenery woke Heronpaw from a kind of daze. He suddenly felt ashamed of himself for openly staring at Petalpaw. _Mousebrain._ He scolded himself. _She’s your friend. Not to mention she’s a medicine cat!_ He followed Petalpaw back to the medicine clearing where they dropped off their dandelion burden. Petalpaw flicked her paws a few times, trying to dislodge a few scraps of leaf.

“Want to get something to eat?” She asked brightly.

“Sure.” Heronpaw purred. He took a few steps toward the well-stocked fresh-kill pile. He faltered as his injured leg groaned. He winced.

Petalpaw glanced at him. “Are you okay?”

Heronpaw hitched a casual expression onto his face. “Yep!”

Petalpaw eyed him. “Alright.”

Together they made their way, Heronpaw trying hard not to limp, to the fresh-kill pile. It had been well stocked by the day’s hunting patrols. The prey was still fat from green-leaf’s plenty. Soon though as the days grew colder the prey would begin to shrink and wither. Heronpaw wasn’t looking forward to crunchy mice and scrawny squirrels.

Petalpaw chose two mice from the pile and motioned with her tail for Heronpaw to follow her over to the apprentice’s den where Specklepaw, Morningpaw, and Hawkpaw were lounging. Hawkpaw waved his tail lazily at the newcomers as they approached. Specklepaw leapt to her paws.

“Heronpaw!” she exclaimed eagerly. “Would you like my spot?”

“Err, no thanks Specklepaw.” Heronpaw said awkwardly. The young apprentice usually only acted like this towards Hawkpaw. She hardly even gave other toms a whisker of attention, let alone offer them her sunning spot. Hawkpaw stared at Specklepaw his mouth slightly agape. Specklepaw stayed standing.

“You’re still recovering! I have to check the elders for ticks anyway.” The young apprentice stared expectantly at Heronpaw.

He hesitated for another brief moment. His legs ached and Specklepaw’s spot looked warm and comfortable. He shrugged and padded forwards.

“Thanks then.” He mewed with a sigh.

Petalpaw dropped a mouse at Heronpaw’s feet while Specklepaw bounded away, her dappled tail fluffed out behind her.

“What was that about?” Petalpaw asked, settling down beside her littermate.

Morningpaw shook her head. “I guess she’s into heroes now.” She said quietly.

Heronpaw couldn’t help but notice that Morningpaw looked pleased. Hawkpaw however was still staring after Specklepaw, his whiskers twitching in annoyance.

“Come on Hawkpaw don’t look so betrayed. She’ll be back mooning over you again once she realizes I’m boring.” Heronpaw snorted.

“You aren’t boring!” Petalpaw protested. “You saved Frayclaw’s life!”

Heronpaw shrugged, taking a mouthful of mouse. “It was my duty.” He tried to act nonchalant but Petalpaw’s praise filled him with warmth from nose to tail-tip.

“Morningpaw!” A loud voice called from the camp entrance. Cloudspots, Morningpaw’s mentor, was standing there with Cherrynose and Elkheart. Morningpaw hopped to her paws and licked Petalpaw’s ear.

“Evening patrol. See you.” She mewed in her soft voice. She took a few steps towards her mentor and then turned. “Bye Hawkpaw.” She added quickly before racing across the grove. Hawkpaw blinked.

“B-bye.” He said.

Heronpaw purred at the dumbfounded look on his brother’s face.

“Stop staring, mousebrain.” Heronpaw hissed through his purr. “Tell me about training. What am I missing?”

The apprentices chatted about training until Plumleaf poked her head out of the medicine den tunnel calling for Petalpaw. After she had left, Heronpaw and Hawkpaw shared tongues in the fading light of evening. Crowpaw eventually joined them after he returned from hunting with Talonscore. The brothers groomed one another until a loud call came from the Highbranch.

“May all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather here beneath the Highbranch for a Clan meeting!” Blizzardstar’s summons echoed through the camp. Cats began emerging from dens and gathering in the clearing before the Highbranch.

Hawkpaw and Crowpaw both perked up at the announcement, but Heronpaw only felt deflated. The gathering. He certainly wouldn’t be going, but his brothers might get to. He tried to make himself excited for them but failed. Sighing, he heaved himself to his paws with Crowpaw’s help. The three apprentices padded over to join the growing crowd of cats and settled on their haunches. Blizzardstar called for quiet.

“Before I name the cats I will take with me, I want to make sure everycat knows what I am going to say at the gathering.” He boomed. Mutters filled the air.

“Two days ago Frayclaw and Heronpaw were put in danger because of a WillowClan cat’s recklessness. I will bring it up to Cougarstar, but I will not accuse her. The actions of one cat do not damn a whole Clan.” Blizzardstar said. There were a few growls of discontent but overall the Clan seemed to agree with their leader.

Heronpaw nodded. It was a wise decision. In the aftermath of the accident, Heronpaw had come to the conclusion that he didn’t want to fight WillowClan. Yarrowfang had acted alone and his Clanmates had certainly not condoned his actions.

“Mouse-dung. I was hoping for a battle.” Hawkpaw growled. He flexed his claws in the peaty soil. Heronpaw rolled his eyes.

“Of course you were.” He said.

“I will take Elkheart, Sweetsorrel, Swiftwing, Hawkpaw, Falconstorm, Talonscore, Crowpaw, Frayclaw, Dawnheart, Spottedfur, and Blackmoth. Any elders that want to come have an invitation. We leave at moonset” Blizzardstar finished. He jumped down from the Highbranch and gathered Whiteshade and Elkheart to him with a wave of his tail. The Clan began to break apart. Cats who had not been called moved back to their dens with yawns and tired murmurs.

Heronpaw flicked his tail at his littermates. “Congratulations.” He said with a forced purr.

Hawkpaw looked very pleased with himself and grunted. Crowpaw however avoided Heronpaw’s gaze and shuffled his paws on the ground. His demeanor was obvious. _Sorry you can’t come with us,_ it said. Heronpaw felt a rush of warmth for his littermates.

“Be sure to tell me everything.” He said, purring in earnest now. “I should go back to the medicine den before Plumleaf has my pelt.” Heronpaw padded away before his brothers could answer. He didn’t want to dampen their mood. They deserved to feel proud and excited without the dark cloud of his injury over their heads.

Heronpaw made his way over to the medicine den tunnel and pushed his way through the fronds. Petalpaw was sitting next to the stream washing her paws. There was a pile of sorted herbs next to her. Heronpaw hesitated. He didn’t want to bother the apprentice, but an ache had stated in his shoulder from the days therapy. He limped fully into the clearing and gave a small cough to announce his presence. Petalpaw jumped despite the warning.

“Heronpaw!” she hopped to her paws. “Do you need something?”

Heronpaw twitched his ears. “Aren’t I supposed to be here?”

Petalpaw tilted her head. “Didn’t Plumleaf tell you? You can go back to the apprentice’s den. We don’t need to keep you under observation.” She said.

“She didn’t tell me…“ Heronpaw began. He was interrupted by a brisk mew from the medicine den. Plumleaf was emerging from the cleft in the rock that was her herb store. Bits of dried leaves dusted off her fur as she squeezed her fluffy body past the lip of the rocks.

“That doesn’t mean you can go back to regular apprentice duties.” She huffed. “You’ll still need to report here in the morning and do exercises with Petalpaw.” Plumleaf waved her tail at Heronpaw. “Now come here.”

Heronpaw limped hesitantly over to the fierce medicine cat. Plumleaf pushed and prodded at Heronpaw’s injured shoulder. She had him flex and stretch his leg while muttering to Petalpaw about muscles and tendons. The apprentice nodded eagerly, drinking in every word her mentor said. Petalpaw’s soft touch on his shoulder made Heronpaw shiver slightly. He let his eyes close as gentle paws massaged his tired muscles.

“Do you have any pain?” Petalpaw mewed softly. Eyes still closed, Heronpaw sighed.

“A little ache.” He mumbled.

“Grab him a bit of willow to chew on.” Plumleaf said. Petalpaw’s touch vanished as she padded away to grab the medicine. Heronpaw blinked his eyes open.

“How is your eye?” Plumleaf said briskly, giving Heronpaw’s scratch a sniff.

“Fine.” He said. His eye hadn’t bothered him since Petalpaw had applied the poultice.

“It’s healing well.” Plumleaf sounded satisfied. “Chew on the bark Petalpaw gives you. It’ll ease the ache.”

“Thanks Plumleaf.” Heronpaw said. The medicine cat nodded and padded out of the clearing leaving Petalpaw and Heronpaw alone. Petalpaw was sifting through her sorted herbs. She seemed to find what she needed and turned back to her patient. She had a piece of gray bark in her teeth and one forepaw lifted off the ground.

“Plumleaf really seems to trust you.” Heronpaw said. He leaned forward to take the bark from Petalpaw’s teeth.

“Only with easy things.” Petalpaw shrugged. Heronpaw purred.

“I’m easy?” he mumbled around the bark.

Petalpaw purred back. “Hardly! You complained all the way through therapy.”

“Petalpaw! It’s time to leave for the gathering!” Plumleaf yowled from through the fern wall.

“Coming!” Petalpaw called back. She lifted her paw up to Heronpaw’s mouth. “Here’s a poppy seed so you won’t have any more bad dreams” she mewed.

Heronpaw dropped the bark at his paws and leaned forward to lick the tiny seed off of Petalpaw’s soft pad. Her green eyes went round at Heronpaw’s touch. Their eyes met for a moment.

“Um. Have a nice night.” Petalpaw said hurriedly before bounding across of the clearing and disappearing through the fern tunnel. Heronpaw watched her go, the warmth seeping back into his ears. He shook himself, grabbed the piece of bark, and padded out of the clearing.

As the ferns brushed past his face, Heronpaw suddenly felt a chill go up his spine. His whiskers and tail twitched. Something was behind him in the medicine clearing. He instantly knew what it was. He swallowed hard, forcing his neck fur to lay flat. He let the willow bark fall from his mouth.

“Who are you?” he said, voice shaking. There was no answer. Heronpaw tried again.

“Are you from StarClan?” Nothing. Heronpaw took a deep breath.

“What do you want from me?”

A rush of cold air shot through Heronpaw like spears of ice. He leapt forward in fear, a tiny squeak of shock escaping his mouth. After a moment he steeled himself and whirled around to face the presence. Nothing was there. The only movement was a few stray leaves that danced in the slight night breeze. Heronpaw stared wildly around, his heart pounding.

When it was clear that nothing was there, Heronpaw gathered his bark in his jaws and crept quickly through the tunnel and across the main clearing. There were a few cats milling about the clearing but most of his Clanmates were either in their dens or gone for the gathering. Heronpaw kept to the shadows, trying to calm his frayed nerves.

He entered the apprentice’s den relieved to find that the only occupant was Morningpaw. She was asleep, her calico flank rising and falling in a deep rhythm. Heronpaw picked his way over to his cold nest. He was pleased to see that somecat had replaced the old stale bedding with new soft moss and a few feathers. They carried Crowpaw’s scent.

The familiar feeling of the apprentice den and the scents of his denmates wreathing around him, Heronpaw felt his anxiety melt away. He could still be a great CedarClan apprentice and serve his Clan despite whatever was happening to him. He settled down in his nest and began to slowly chew on his bark. He closed his eyes as the cool flavor bathed his tongue.

Morningpaw’s heavy breathing soothed Heronpaw’s frazzled mind. He just had to calm down. Calm down. Tiredness seeped into his bones. He felt sleep overtake his mind as the poppy seed began to take effect. With a final sigh of resignation, Heronpaw succumbed.


	8. Gathering

Dawnheart padded through the fern tunnel after his Clanmates. His brain was buzzing with excitement. He was about to go to his first gathering as a warrior!

Frayclaw fell into step beside his denmate as the patrol streamed out into the forest.

“This is so exciting!” Dawnheart blurted out.

Frayclaw caught Dawnheart’s gaze with sparkling gray eyes. The usually stoic warrior looked more excited than Dawnheart had ever seen him. His tail was kinked high over his back and he carried himself with squared shoulders and a straight back. 

A grumpy voice called from behind Dawnheart

“Get a move on kits. You’re in the way.”

Dawnheart looked over his shoulder to see Spottedfur and Foxtail bringing up the rear of the patrol. The younger warriors slowed and moved to the side to let the she-cats pass.

Spottedfur flicked her companion over the ear.

“They aren’t kits anymore, Foxtail.” She turned and rested her amber gaze on Dawnheart. There was deep pride there. “They’re warriors.”

“Any cat that has seen less than five leaf-bares is a kit to me.” Foxtail grumbled.

Spottedfur purred.

“You grumpy old shrew.” She said with a purr.

Dawnheart caught Spottedfur’s eyes and they shared a knowing look. The day that Foxtail stopped grumbling would be the day StarClan gained a new warrior.

Frayclaw let the ginger elder shuffle past him.

“After you.” He said with a bow of his head.

“You’re damn right.” Foxtail muttered. She nosed her way through the undergrowth. Her white tipped tail disappeared beneath the fronds and her muttering began to fade.

Spottedfur purred and glanced between Dawnheart and Frayclaw.

“You’re good boys.” She said. Her eyes glowed.

Frayclaw leaned over and gave Spottedfur a firm lick on the top of her head. The she-cat let out a loud purr.

“I should chase her down. StarClan knows she’s not waiting for me.” Spottedfur said. She waved her tail at the warriors and disappeared after her friend.

Frayclaw and Dawnheart followed.

They caught up with the patrol as the cats were rounding the final bend in the river. Before them lay the vast glittering lake. The full moon shone brightly on the still surface of the water.

Dawnheart gazed at the perfect reflection. No matter how many times he saw this it would always take his breath away.

The CedarClan patrol spilled out over the bank and made their way across smooth, colorful stones to a small inlet where the shadowed forms of cats were flitting about on the bank.

As the patrol drew closer to the rest of the cats, Blizzardstar and Whiteshade broke off from the group and leapt across the water to a mound of gray stones about a fox-length from the water’s edge. The two large white cats sat among the other Clan leaders and deputies that were waiting there.

Dawnheart and Frayclaw joined the rest of their Clanmates among the other Clans.

“Dawnheart! Frayclaw!” a familiar voice called out from a group of younger cats huddled beside the steep embankment.

Dawnheart looked to see who had spoken. It was Wingpaw, a black WillowClan tom who Dawnheart had met a few gatherings ago. He and Frayclaw padded over to the group of what looked like apprentices and young warriors and settled down on their haunches.

“Actually its Dawnheart and Frayclaw now.” Dawnheart mewed. He puffed out his chest.

Wingpaw’s eyes grew wide.

“Congratulations!” Wingpaw said. His yellow eyes sparkled. He sat up straighter. “I’m a warrior too. My name is Wingshadow.”

Dawnheart’s tail curled in delight. “That’s fantastic!”

Frayclaw purred. “Congratulations.”

“How is WillowClan?” Dawnheart cheerfully mewed to Wingshadow.

Wingshadow’s reaction was not what Dawnheart had expected. The WillowClan warrior shrugged. “Fine.” He mewed curtly.

Before Dawnheart could respond a loud yowl sounded from behind them.

“The gathering will now begin!” Griffonstar, PineClan’s leader, had called for attention.

Dawnheart and Frayclaw shuffled on their hind paws to face the Greatrocks. Dawnheart glanced over at Wingshadow, but the black tom’s expression was calm and attentive.

The chatter around the inlet died down under Griffonstar’s sharp yellow gaze. The dark ginger she-cat was crouched at the edge of a sharp rock balanced at the top of the Greatrocks.

Her deputy, Beartooth, was sitting just below her. His dark eyes swept around the clearing. A silent dare shone in his gaze.

Griffonstar began the meeting with the usual reports of new warriors and kits.

Dawnheart joined the four Clans as they raised their voices in celebration of StarClan’s gifts. A shudder passed down his spine. Soon these voices would be welcoming him to the rank of warrior.

Frayclaw nudged Dawnheart with his shoulder and caught his eye. Dawnheart saw his own excitement reflected in his friend’s eyes.

“…The fox may have passed into your territory Eaglestar.” Griffonstar was saying. She turned and dipped her head to Eaglestar, the new leader of AlderClan.

“Thank you for the warning.” Eaglestar said.

Dawnheart watched the golden tabby, curious. Palestar had always been the face of AlderClan to Dawnheart. This new cat looked strange. He was a large, commanding presence unlike his predecessor who had become quite frail in his old age.

Griffonstar finished her report with a flick of her tail. She stepped back and nodded at the other leaders.

Before Blizzardstar or Cougarstar could move, Eaglestar rose to his sturdy paws. He took a few steps to the edge of the rock and sat. His golden tabby pelt shone in the moonlight. Silence fell over the Clans.

“Cats of all Clans.” Eaglestar rumbled. “As you know last moon our beloved leader, Palestar, returned to StarClan. I can only hope that I live up to his great legacy.”

The large tom bowed his head in a moment of silence for his lost leader.

Every cat fell quiet.

Dawnheart had never heard such a complete silence before. Palestar had been well loved and respected among all four Clans. Dawnheart felt a pang of grief for AlderClan. He couldn’t imagine any cat replacing Blizzardstar in his heart.

Eaglestar let the moment stretch on for a few more heartbeats before he began again.

“AlderClan has but one announcement; I have chosen Riverwhisper as my deputy.” 

An excited murmur rippled through the crowd as cats looked around to spot the new deputy. A gray tabby she-cat rose to her paws from beside a group of AlderClan warriors. She made her way up the rock pile and settled beside Beartooth and Whiteshade.

A cry rose up from the AlderClan warriors, getting louder with every heartbeat. Soon everycat was chanting.

“Palestar! Eaglestar! Riverwhisper!” It was a rare moment in Clan life where Clan boundaries and rivalries were thrown to the wind. Every voice was risen in excitement, sorrow, and joy.

Dawnheart noticed something that made his heart wither.

Cougarstar was sitting with her eyes half closed, muzzle shut, looking almost bored. Her deputy, Owlears, was also looking nonplussed. Her mouth moved along with the cries of the Clans, but there was no sincerity in her posture.

Dawnheart was shocked.

“Look at Cougarstar!” He hissed to Frayclaw as the noise died down.

Frayclaw narrowed his eyes at the WillowClan leader.

“Such disrespect.” Frayclaw shook his head, his neck fur rising in anger.

Dawnheart glanced over at Wingshadow. The young warrior was avoiding looking up at the Greatrocks. His ears were folded back and his tail was twitching. He was clearly ashamed of his leader’s behavior.

Dawnheart looked around at other WillowClan cats. Most of them were watching Eaglestar with respectful attentiveness, but there were a few who were muttering to one another.

“Blizzardstar is going to speak.” Frayclaw hissed.

Dawnheart snapped his attention back to the Greatrock. Eaglestar was backing away from the edge of the rock and Blizzardstar was rising to his paws.

“CedarClan fully welcomes you, Eaglestar and Riverwhisper. May StarClan light your paths.” Blizzardstar nodded to each cat in turn.

Dawnheart felt a swell of pride for his leader. Blizzardstar was truly a cat with integrity.

“CedarClan have new warriors to announce.” Blizzardstar went on.

Dawnheart stiffened. This was it! All troubled thoughts of Cougarstar left his mind. He felt Frayclaw shiver beside him.

“We welcome Frayclaw and Dawnheart tonight.”

“Dawnheart!” Frayclaw leapt to his paws and cried out his friend’s name.

Dawnheart’s chest swelled with pride and excitement. He stood as well and yowled for Frayclaw.

Soon the air was filled with shouts for the new warriors.

Dawnheart knew that not everycat was saying his name. In fact he could hear several voices pointedly only saying Frayclaw’s name, but he didn’t mind. Frayclaw was next to him and Blizzardstar was watching him with pride in his gaze.

After the noise had gone for a few heartbeats, Blizzardstar lifted his tail for silence.

“Yes well done.” He purred. “However, we have more solemn news as well.” The huge white tom turned to Cougarstar.

A hush fell over the Clans.

Dawnheart’s feeling of pride faded. A sense of foreboding replaced it. He knew this had to happen, but his anxiety was making it hard to imagine it ending well.

“Three sunrises ago a CedarClan patrol was attacked by one of your warriors. One of my new warriors and an apprentice were almost killed in the river because of his rashness.” Blizzardstar began.

Dawnheart was vaguely aware of gasps and muttering from the gathered Clans. He kept his eyes fixed on Blizzardstar’s calm figure.

“I have no quarrel with you or your Clan, Cougarstar, but I would like to know what steps you have taken to prevent this from happening again in the future.” The CedarClan leader nodded to his peer.

Dawnheart was impressed by his leader’s bold words. He held his breath, waiting for Cougarstar’s response.

The brown she-cat looked at Blizzardstar through narrowed eyes. She licked a black paw and slowly drew it over her whiskers. She rose to her paws.

“I heard the story, Blizzardstar. I saw no issue with my warrior’s behavior.”

Dawnheart’s mouth dropped open. A loud noise of indignation escaped Frayclaw’s jaws. Various noises of anger and shock rippled through the cats, most of which were from CedarClan’s cats.

Blizzardstar twitched an ear but did not react.

“Cougarstar your warrior attacked my patrol on our territory without provocation. Is this not strictly against the warrior code?” Blizzardstar’s voice was level, but there was blue fire in his eyes.

Cougarstar didn’t respond right away. Instead she looked down from her perch to eye the angry cats in the crowd.

“Without provocation?” she drawled. “Interesting take.”

Blizzardstar shook his head. “Provocation or not, your warrior had no right to set paw on our territory and attack my cats.” His voice was beginning to betray the anger behind his eyes.

“Did he set paw?” Cougarstar shot back. Her eyes had lit up like she had caught somecat in a lie.

Blizzardstar seemed taken aback for a heartbeat. “He attacked my warrior.” He began.

Cougarstar cut him off.

“My warrior _never_ trespassed on your territory.”

There was a moment of shocked silence. Cougarstar took this as a chance to continue.

“The way I see it, _your_ warrior attacked _mine_ unprovoked.” She said.

Blizzardstar jerked his head, shocked back out of his silence.

“Yarrowfang attacked Dawnheart!” he said loudly. “He jumped-“

“You mean that kittypet?” Cougarstar interrupted. “You can’t blame Yarrowfang for seeing an enemy to all four Clans and reacting.”

There was silence. Blizzardstar’s mouth was hanging open. He looked completely undignified.

Dawnheart’s heart sank. Of course. Why did it always have to come back to that?

“How _dare_ you!”

Dawnheart jumped as Frayclaw leapt to his paws beside him. The gray warrior’s eyes were blazing with anger.

“Frayclaw, stop!” Dawnheart hissed, but his plea fell on deaf ears. He had never seen Frayclaw so angry before.

All of the gray warrior’s claws were out and digging into the sandy shore. His fur was bushed out all over his body. He looked twice his size.

Dawnheart instinctively backed away from his friend.

“Frayclaw…” Dawnheart’s quiet mew was drowned out by a sudden influx of noise. Cries of anger from other cats had followed Frayclaw’s outburst.

“Silence!” Blizzardstar yowled. The clamor died down again.

Dawnheart kept his eyes on Frayclaw. His anger had not dimmed.

“Cougarstar despite your objections Dawnheart is a full warrior of CedarClan. Yarrowfang’s reckless behavior endangered not only Frayclaw and an apprentice, but himself as well. If something like this happens again, we will have a problem.” Blizzardstar spoke quickly in a rough voice. He had lost his patience.

Cougarstar continued to look petulant.

“Relations between Clans have been peaceful for moons. I do not wish to make threats, but I will not stand by and have my warriors and apprentices endangered by your negligence.” There was finality in Blizzardstar’s voice. He turned away from Cougarstar and back to the gathering.

“CedarClan is well fed and strong. We look to the future with hope and confidence.” Blizzardstar flicked his ears and turned away from the edge of the rock.

A wave of muttering broke out after Blizzardstar finished.

Dawnheart took the chance to move closer to Frayclaw. He brushed his flank to the gray warrior’s side.

Frayclaw shot Dawnheart a glance from smoldering eyes.

“It’s okay.” Dawnheart soothed. “I’m okay.”

“I’m _sick_ of it.” Frayclaw’s voice was distressed rather than angry. He caught Dawnheart’s eye. “They can’t keep treating you like this.”

Dawnheart opened his mouth to reply but didn’t know what to say. He looked down at his paws. He felt tired.

“WillowClan is strong and our claws are sharp.” Cougarstar yowled above the chattering crowd. They fell silent once more.

“We welcome two new warriors here tonight; Sparkwhisker and Spottedowl!” Cougarstar raised her tail and began the chant to welcome the new warriors.

The reception was scattered and lukewarm. Many cats were still muttering about Cougarstar and Blizzardstar’s argument.

Dawnheart raised his yowl loudly and clearly for Sparkwhisker and Spottedowl. He felt bad for them. Every warrior deserved to be welcomed by all four Clans.

After the chant died down, Cougarstar continued. “Each moon we grow stronger. We will fight for our Clan if need be.” She jumped down from the rocks without another word.

Owlears leapt to her paws and followed. Cougarstar landed on the bank and, without looking, waved her tail at her Clanmates for them to follow. The WillowClan cats rose to their paws and followed their leader.

Wingshadow jumped to his paws and nodded at Dawnheart and Frayclaw before hurrying away. Cougarstar was already out of sight. She seemed completely uninterested in letting her cats keep up.

Dawnheart saw that a WillowClan elder was struggling to stand up among the slippery pebbles. Wingshadow fell back and helped the old she-cat to her paws and across the bank.

Soon WillowClan was gone and the inlet was left in quiet disbelief.

After a few heartbeats the remaining cats began to move about and talk to one another. Dawnheart breathed a sigh of relief.

Dawnheart looked up to see Hawkpaw and Crowpaw approaching. Two PineClan apprentices followed. Hawkpaw’s steps were lively and his eyes glowed. Crowpaw brought up the rear.

“I thought Blizzardstar was going to claw Cougarstar’s ears!” Hawkpaw exclaimed.

Crowpaw rolled his eyes as he sat down next to Dawnheart. “Not during the truce, mousebrain.” He said.

Hawkpaw ignored his brother and plopped down.

The two PineClan cats sat as well.

All eyes fell on Dawnheart.

“What really happened at the river?” Flamepaw, one of the PineClan cats, asked.

Dawnheart gave a brief explanation of the confrontation.

Flamepaw and his Clanmate, Pebblepaw, listened intently. When Dawnheart was finished, Flamepaw shook his head.

“What a foxhearted mousebrain.” He said of Yarrowfang. “I can’t believe Cougarstar is trying to defend him.”

Pebblepaw nodded vigorously.

Dawnheart felt relieved that cats of other Clans were coming to the same conclusion. Cougarstar’s actions were worrisome to say the least.

“I know PineClan stands with you.” Flamepaw rested his tail on Dawnheart’s shoulder.

Dawnheart dipped his head at the apprentice. Flamepaw had to be only about a half-moon younger than Dawnheart, but he showed wisdom for his age. Being the deputy’s apprentice had given him moons of extra experience.

“Beartooth told me that Cougarstar became leader much too early.” Flamepaw continued. “She was a young deputy when Runningstar was killed. A lot of the older warriors think she’s too inexperienced to lead.”

“Not to mention she handed her littermate the deputyship.” Hawkpaw added with a sniff. “She’s insulated herself from criticism.”

Crowpaw blinked at his brother. His mouth was half-open.

“What?” Hawkpaw straightened his back. “I know stuff.”

The group of young cats chatted for a little while longer. Dawnheart didn’t join in. He let his worries flutter about in his head. Leaf-bare was fast approaching. CedarClan couldn’t afford to be dragged into a war with WillowClan over something so trivial.

Dawnheart was jolted out of his thoughts by the arrival of a gray tabby PineClan warrior. He waved his tail at Flamepaw and Pebblepaw.

“Griffonstar says we should get going.” The tabby said.

Pebblepaw and Flamepaw stood.

“It was nice to meet you.” Flamepaw mewed. He dipped his head to the CedarClan warriors.

Dawnheart and Frayclaw nodded back. The PineClan cats padded away to join the rest of their Clanmates.

Griffonstar raised her tail and led the Clan away through the thicker trees at the opposite side of the bank.

Hawkpaw rose to his paws and stretched. “What a night!” he said. His gray eyes were sparkling.

Crowpaw flicked an ear but didn’t pause cleaning his tail. Frayclaw just grunted and looked away. Dawnheart purred weakly.

Hawkpaw seemed unaffected by his companion’s apathy.

“CedarClan! Let’s go.” Whiteshade’s deep yowl rose over the small crowd of remaining cats.

Dawnheart, Frayclaw, and Crowpaw stood and waited for the rest of the Clan to gather. Once everycat was present Blizzardstar dipped his head to Eaglestar and moved to the head of his patrol.

The Clan padded along the shore towards the cover of the trees, Dawnheart and Frayclaw taking up the rear.

A familiar speckled pelt split away from the patrol and waited at the edge of the group. Spottedfur waved her tail at Dawnheart and Frayclaw as they approached. When they reached her she fell into step beside them. Together they set out across the pebbly beach and towards the forest’s edge.

The trio padded briskly along the CedarClan WillowClan border. The narrow river flowed inside of WillowClan’s borders here. The CedarClan scent line followed the bank and joined with the river further upstream. The stony ground beneath Dawnheart’s paws was firm with cold. He stepped lightly over a sharp looking rock

They reached an overhang of tangled roots and soil and took turns jumping up and onto the hillock.

Dawnheart hovered at the edge as Spottedfur clambered up the small cliff. After much grunting she dragged herself up and shook out her pelt.

“Bless my whiskers but that was exciting.” She puffed. “There hasn’t been such a lively Gathering in ages!”

Dawnheart purred at the ageing queen’s enthusiasm. “Don’t get too worked up, now.” He chirruped. "Save some energy for the trip home.”

Spottedfur flicked her tail across his muzzle. “I’m not _that_ old.” She scolded. Her eyes sparkled with good humor. “In fact I feel younger than I have in moons!”

As if to prove her point, Spottedfur stopped in her tracks and sank into a hunting crouch.

Dawnheart slowed to a stop, curious. The old queen’s ears were perked and her tail was twitching. Dawnheart followed her eye line and saw what she had spotted.

A mouse had emerged from beneath some leaf litter. Its tiny brown nose quivered as it sensed for danger. The warriors were downwind. The mouse didn’t have a chance.

Dawnheart held up his tail for Frayclaw to stop. He did.

They watched as Spottedfur crept forward on light paws. It had been some time since the queen had been hunting, but her crouch was still very good. She slid forward. Her rounded belly brushed the ground.

The rustle caused the mouse to bolt. Spottedfur sprang after it.

Dawnheart jumped. “Spottedfur, wait!”

The queen didn’t stop. She was too engaged in the hunt. She leapt after the fleeing creature with renewed vigor.

Frayclaw darted after her. Dawnheart followed. 

His belly lurched as Spottedfur, too focused on her mouse, sped down the bank and crossed the WillowClan border. She gave one final leap and flattened the mouse under her paws.

Dawnheart and Frayclaw reached her as she readied herself for the killing bite.

“Stop! You crossed the border.” Frayclaw called. He was looking around, his tail twitching.

“Did I?” Spottedfur looked over her shoulder. Her eyes widened. “Oh, mousedung.” She released the mouse. It shot away from her claws.

Dawnheart’s belly wriggled. There was no sign of WillowClan. They could slip away without consequence.

“It was a mistake.” He said. He tried to keep the concern from his voice. His ears flicked back and forth. It felt weird to be on another Clan’s territory. “Let’s go before-“

A loud yowl interrupted Dawnheart’s words. The CedarClan cats looked up to see a full WillowClan patrol emerging from the undergrowth on the other side of the river.

Dawnheart’s belly lurched. They had been caught.

Spottedfur shrank beside him.

A large tabby tom with a twisted tail shouldered his way to the front of the patrol. A small calico apprentice jumped to his side.

“Prey stealers!” she shrieked.

“It was a mistake.” Frayclaw said.

The tabby tom looked from Frayclaw to Spottedfur. He drew his lips back in a terrible snarl.

“Then you’ll pay for it.” 


	9. Battle

“WillowClan, attack!”

The patrol of enemy warriors lurched forward and into the smooth river. Within a few heartbeats, they burst out of the water and charged.

Frayclaw met the first warrior with extended claws and bared teeth.

Mind racing, Dawnheart took a defensive stance at Spottedfur’s side. There was no time for confusion. It was three against five. He had to keep the warriors away from Spottedfur. She hadn’t seen battle for seasons.

Dawnheart readied himself as two warriors and an apprentice came at them.

Spottedfur crouched and hissed fiercely. She extended one unsheathed paw.

His first opponent was approaching. Dawnheart felt a pang of recognition as the black tom drew near. _Wingshadow!_ He pushed away his momentary hesitation and readied himself to defend. They may have been friendly at the Gathering, but now it was time to fight.

Dawnheart reared, grasping the tom’s shoulders with his claws. Remembering his training, Dawnheart let his back legs fall out from under him. Suddenly the WillowClan warrior was crashing to the ground with Dawnheart’s weight as well as his own. Wingshadow landed hard on one paw with a shriek.

Dawnheart aimed a blow at the black tom’s unbalanced side. His claws tore through fur and flesh.

Wingshadow shrieked; his dodge hadn’t been enough to avoid damage. The new warrior recovered quickly and stood to face Dawnheart with fierce determination in his eyes.

Dawnheart saw his own fire reflected in Wingshadow. They were both new warriors, eager to prove themselves in battle for their Clan. Dawnheart slid out his claws and scraped them along the rocky shore. _I won’t let you hurt Spottedfur!_

Wingshadow lunged. Dawnheart reacted with grace and spun to avoid the attack. His foe was slow and awkward now that his paw was injured. He would have been better off retreating.

Dawnheart turned and shoved Wingshadow before the black tom could regain his balance. He stumbled and his paw crumpled beneath him. His eyes grew round with pain and he gasped aloud. Dawnheart backed up, willing to let Wingshadow concede.

Before Dawnheart could take a breath a new foe appeared. The new-comer was a pale tabby she-cat. She took Dawnheart by surprise, bowling him over. Dawnheart gasped as his head cracked against a rock.

The two warriors rolled over on the stones with claws out. They grappled and fought for dominance. The WillowClan warrior ended up on top. She pinned Dawnheart’s shoulders to the ground.

Dawnheart wriggled, trying to unbalance his foe, but his head was spinning. His feeble attempts did nothing to move the weight off his chest.

With a hiss of triumph the WillowClan warrior leaned down and bared her fangs.

A flash of tabby fur slammed into the pale warrior. She was thrown off of Dawnheart with a strangled yowl.

Dawnheart scrabbled to his paws in time to see a familiar cat chasing the yowling she-cat to the river’s edge. Sweetsorrel was here?

His Clanmate delivered a viscous bite to her enemy’s heels which sent the tabby fleeing in earnest across the water.

Sweetsorrel turned and licked the blood from her lips. She nodded at Dawnheart and dashed to Frayclaw’s side. He had been backed up against the bank by the other two WillowClan warriors. Together Frayclaw and Sweetsorrel began to drive them back.

Dawnheart whirled to see Spottedfur and another unexpected face battering the WillowClan apprentice with blows from every side. Foxtail was here too!

After a heartbeat the small she-cat wailed in frustration and turned to follow her fleeing Clanmate.

“Are you okay?” Dawnheart called to Spottedfur and Foxtail.

The old she-cats nodded. Foxtail began to lead her friend back up the bank. Dawnheart noticed that Spottedfur was limping slightly but otherwise she seemed unhurt.

Dawnheart turned his attention to the continuing battle.

Frayclaw and Sweetsorrel were still holding their own against the WillowClan warriors. As Dawnheart watched Frayclaw smashed his paws down on the smaller warrior’s shoulders. Sweetsorrel darted forward and slashed at the unbalanced cat. Her blow sent him fleeing.

His Clanmate yowled in anger. The large tabby backed up, one foreleg raised in caution.

“Twistedroot!” Sweetsorrel spat. “What gives you the right to attack an elder queen?”

“Prey stealers must be punished.” Twistedroot snarled. He shot a hateful glace at the CedarClan warriors before rearing. He wasn’t going to give up.

Dawnheart made a move to run to his Clanmates side.

“Dawnheart!” Spottedfur’s warning shriek made Dawnheart whirl around in time to see Wingshadow leaping at him.

He slammed into Dawnheart with surprising force and ferocity. Dawnheart tried to react but his head was still spinning from the impact with the rocks earlier. He fell back and tried in vain to get a hold on his attacker.

Suddenly the weight was lifted. Dawnheart rolled to his side. He looked up expecting to see Frayclaw grappling with Wingshadow. What he saw instead made his heart sink.

Spottedfur was crashing heavily to the ground, tangled in Wingshadow’s limbs. The pair rolled across the stony bank and came to a stop a tail-length from the river.

Wingshadow scrambled to his paws. His gray eyes were wide with terror. “I didn’t mean to!” he gasped. He backed away on shaking paws.

Dawnheart was confused. _Didn’t mean to do what?_

He looked down and realized Spottedfur wasn’t moving.

“Spottedfur!” Foxtail’s terrified yowl ripped through the air. The old she-cat dashed to Spottedfur’s side. Her white-tipped tail was bushed out in fear.

Dawnheart stumbled across the bank. Panic was rising in his chest.

“What did you do to her?” he croaked at Wingshadow. The warrior’s eyes were wide with horror. He didn’t move his gaze from Spottedfur. He just shook his head, bewildered.

“I think I crushed her!” he stammered.

Dawnheart looked down at his unmoving Clanmate. Dark red was seeping out from underneath her head. The horrid color was staining the pebbles.

Dawnheart’s stomach lurched.

_No._

He looked wildly around, scanning the length of the bank. There, among a particularly stony patch a tail-length away, was a sharp stone.

Blood tinged black in the moonlight stained its tip.

Sweetsorrel and Frayclaw had rushed over to see what had happened. Sweetsorrel sniffed Spottedfur all over. The tabby warrior wailed and buried her nose in Spottedfur’s pelt.

Frayclaw stared. His eyes were wide with disbelief.

Dawnheart looked to his denmate.

“We-we need to get Plumleaf.” Dawnheart said. Yes. Plumleaf would know what to do. Dawnheart took a few steps towards the forest but his spinning head cause him to lose his balance. He flopped to the ground awkwardly. Desperate, he called out.

“Frayclaw, we need to get Plumleaf!”

Frayclaw didn’t move.

Twistedroot limped to his Clanmate’s side.

“It was an accident.” The large tom growled. “She shouldn’t have trespassed.”

 _No! She’s hurt that’s all._ Dawnheart thought. He wanted to yowl but his voice was lost.

“Get away.” Frayclaw’s voice was low and dangerous.

Twistedroot and Wingshadow didn’t move.

“This isn’t ov-“, Twistedroot began.

“Get away!” Frayclaw’s head snapped up. His eyes flashed like cold fire. “Get away from her before I kill you!” Rage filled the gray warrior’s entire body. His fur was fluffed up, ears laid back, teeth and claws bared.

Twistedroot backed away, uncertain. After a heartbeat his flat grimace returned. “It is you who are trespassing. Leave our territory.”

For a terrifying moment Dawnheart thought that Frayclaw was going to launch himself at the WillowClan warrior. Then the wild light of hatred was gone and Frayclaw was gripping Spottedfur’s scruff in his teeth.

Foxtail spat. “You had no right!” she cried out. “She was an elder queen!”

The WillowClan patrol stood their ground. Wingshadow had flinched at Foxtail’s words. His eyes were wide with horror.

The image burned into Dawnheart’s mind.

“Come on.” Sweetsorrel’s voice broke through the loud buzzing in Dawnheart’s ears.

The she-cat coaxed Foxtail up the bank and back to CedarClan territory.

Dawnheart tore his eyes away from the bloody stain that Spottedfur had left. He scurried to Frayclaw’s side and together they dragged her across the border.

Once they had passed the scent markers Sweetsorrel spoke. “She hit her head.” Her voice was solemn and tinged with raw grief. “She probably didn’t feel a thing.” The she-cat laid her tail across Foxtail’s shoulders.

The ginger elder let out a low moan and buried her face into Sweetsorrel’s side.

Realization washed over Dawnheart. Spottedfur was dead. She had launched herself into battle with a strong young warrior when she herself hadn’t fought more than a mouse for seasons. One wrong move, one perfectly placed sharp stone had ended her life so suddenly. Reality sank its cold talons into Dawnheart’s body. His heart twisted with pain.

“This was so unnecessary.” Sweetsorrel muttered. Her ears were flattened in anger but her voice cracked. For a moment the CedarClan cats stood together in silence around their fallen Clanmate, then Sweetsorrel rose and nudged Foxtail to her paws.

“We have to take her home now.” Sweetsorrel said softly into Foxtail’s ear. Foxtail hung her head, her tail limp. Sweetsorrel started to lead the elder away.

Dawnheart looked up at Frayclaw. Their eyes met. Together they moved forward to grasp Spottedfur’s body again. Dawnheart’s mouth flooded with her familiar scent as he gripped her by the back as gently as he could muster.

Frayclaw took the old cat’s scruff in his jaws and together they lifted her dead weight.

As the group made their way back to camp Dawnheart tried not to think about Spottedfur’s paws and tail dragging in the dust or the taste of her blood on his tongue. He focused instead on putting one paw in front of the other.

_Left. Right. Left. Right._

After what felt like a moon, Dawnheart padded through the fern tunnel. He could hardly feel the weight of Spottedfur’s body anymore. That somehow made it worse.

Gasps of shock and horror met the procession as they moved into the clearing. Dawnheart and Frayclaw bent down and laid Spottedfur’s limp body onto the ground.

Dawnheart felt a twinge of shame as her tail flopped loudly to the ground.

“What happened?” Blizzardstar demanded. The white tom shouldered his way through the growing crowd of cats.

“They were attacked by a WillowClan patrol.” Sweetsorrel said quietly. Her green eyes were fixed on Spottedfur’s body.

Foxtail threw herself at the old queen’s side and moaned into her cold fur.

Outraged, confused, and horrified yowls rose up among the gathered cats.

“WillowClan! Those foxhearts!”

“Cougarstar is out of line!”

“We have to do something!”

“Out of the way!” Plumleaf’s irritated voice rose above the crowd. The warriors parted and Plumleaf appeared at Spottedfur’s side.

Petalpaw crept out from behind her mentor, her green eyes wide with horror.

Plumleaf examined Spottedfur’s blood soaked fur. She sniffed and licked at the wound. Silence fell over the cats as she worked. After a few heartbeats Plumleaf sat back and shook her head solemnly.

“She walks with StarClan now.” she said.

Mournful wails broke the silence. After a moment Blizzardstar raised his tail for silence.

“I need to hear the whole story.” he said. “Come with me.” he nodded at Dawnheart, Frayclaw, and Sweetsorrel.

Dawnheart heaved himself to his paws and nudged Frayclaw. The gray warrior was staring at Spottedfur’s body. He twitched a whisker and rose.

The three warriors followed Blizzardstar to the mouth of his den. Blizzardstar turned and sat at the entrance. His warriors followed suit. Behind them Whiteshade was directing the Clan to prepare Spottedfur for burial.

“What happened?” Blizzardstar asked again. His voice was much lower and grief tinged his mew. Dawnheart dropped his gaze to his paws and reluctantly began.

“Spottedfur saw a mouse. She chased it across the border without realizing.” he said slowly.

“A mistake any cat could make.” Blizzardstar said.

Dawnheart looked up and saw sympathy in his leader’s blue eyes. Dawnheart gave himself and shake and continued. He told Blizzardstar what had happened. He paused as he remembered Spottedfur leaping to his defense and rolling across the bank in Wingshadow’s grip. It became hard to speak after that.

Sweetsorrel jumped in.

“Foxtail and I heard shrieks and fighting so we ran back.” she said. “We got there in time to drive the last of WillowClan off, but…” she trailed off.

“Wingshadow attacked me from behind while I was dazed and Spottedfur defended me.” Dawnheart said. He purposefully avoided Blizzardstar’s gaze.

“And that’s when she hit her head?” Blizzardstar finished.

All three cats nodded.

“They knew it was a mistake? That she didn’t kill the prey?” Blizzardstar verified.

“They didn’t care.” Frayclaw growled.

Blizzardstar shook his head.

“What a waste.” he muttered. “Such senseless violence.”

Dawnheart dared to look up at his leader. Blizzardstar’s eyes were blazing with anger. He stood and padded to the High Branch without another word

The large white warrior leapt up onto the low hanging branch and yowled. “Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather here beneath the High Branch for a Clan meeting!”

The group of cats that surrounded Spottedfur’s body looked up in confusion.

“Shall we wake others?” Falconstorm called.

“Wake every cat.” Blizzardstar ordered.

The CedarClan cats spread out, poking their heads in dens and passing along the message.

Sweetsorrel led Dawnheart and Frayclaw across the clearing where they settled near the nursery. Sweetsorrel darted in and reappeared a few heartbeats later with Honeyleaf and Quailstep behind her.

Before long the whole Clan was sitting bleary eyed before their leader.

“Cats of CedarClan.” Blizzardstar boomed. “Tragedy has befallen us tonight. A few stragglers from the gathering were unjustly attacked by a WillowClan patrol. This resulted in Spottedfur’s accidental death.”

Yowls of shock and horror filled the night.

“No!”

“Not Spottedfur!”

Dawnheart’s heart twisted as he saw Hollowtree and Beepelt shuffling over to their denmate. Their voices wavered with despair.

Honeyleaf and Quailstep pushed through the crowd in desperation. Plumleaf met them halfway. She led the grieving queens away, muttering into their ears and brushing their flanks with her tail.

“Wait until she is cleaned up. Think of the kits.”

“What are we going to do?” Kestrelfeather demanded.

“We have to attack!” Swiftwing spat, leaping to his paws. Several other warriors yowled in agreement.

“Enough!” Blizzardstar silenced the tumult. “I need to speak to my senior warriors in order to decide what course of action we should take.”

More yowls of indignation exploded among the Clan.

“There’s no time for talk! We need to retaliate!”

“Blizzardstar has spoken.” Elkheart’s level voice rose above the rest. “His word is law.”

More yowls met his words.

Blizzardstar didn’t bother quieting the noise once more. Instead he jumped down from his perch and waved his tail at his senior warriors. They gathered around him and began to argue.

The rest of the Clan broke off into groups, muttering amongst themselves. The elders and medicine cats gathered around Spottedfur’s body and began to lick her fur clean of blood. The queens hovered nearby with distress in their eyes.

Frayclaw lashed his tail and began to pace.

Dawnheart didn’t try to calm his denmate. There was nothing to be said.

Instead he padded over to where the elders were grooming Spottedfur’s body.

“Can I help?” he asked Plumleaf. She nodded and moved aside to make room.

Dawnheart sat at Spottedfur’s side and bent down to groom her dusty flank. He let himself become lost in the task. The rhythmic licking of his Clanmates soothed him. He imagined he was back in the nursery cuddled up to a warm flank.

Eventually Frayclaw appeared at Dawnheart’s side free of agitation. Together they licked fragrant herbs into Spottedfur’s chilled fur.

The cold light of the moon was beginning to fall below the tree line when Spottedfur’s Clanmates stood back from her body. Her well-groomed fur shone in the starlight and her paws and tail were neatly curled underneath her. Her fur was free of blood and instead smelled of lavender and rosemary.

Dawnheart felt a stab of pain as he tried to take one last whiff of her familiar scent and found it masked by herbs and death.

He leaned into Frayclaw’s side. Tiredness clouded his mind. He just wanted to sleep and forget. He closed his eyes.

Suddenly Frayclaw tensed. Dawnheart sat up and looked around. He saw Blizzardstar and the other senior warriors breaking up their meeting.

Whiteshade, Falconstorm, Shadowgrove, and Brushfire followed Blizzardstar towards the camp’s entrance while the others padded to the warrior’s den. Frayclaw leapt up and dashed to intercept the patrol. Dawnheart followed.

Frayclaw reached the patrol and partially blocked their way through the camp entrance.

“I want to come with you.” He said. He hastily dipped his head to his leader.

Dawnheart skidded to a halt next to Frayclaw and did the same.

“Me too.” Dawnheart muttered.

Blizzardstar looked them up and down. His whiskers quivered. Dawnheart held his breath.

“No.” Blizzardstar finally said.

Frayclaw’s ears flattened.

“She was like our mother!” he hissed. There was anger but also sorrow in his voice. “You can’t-“

“Yes I can.” Blizzardstar interrupted. “You have had a long night, both of you. You need to rest and grieve.” His dark blue eyes were empathetic but his tone was final.

Frayclaw opened his mouth to argue but Dawnheart shot him a look. Frayclaw clamped his jaws shut and turned away.

Dawnheart nodded to the patrol and backed away to let them pass. He got sympathetic looks from Whiteshade and Shadowgrove as they passed.

“We’ll get justice for Spottedfur.” Falconstorm said as he brushed past Dawnheart and through the fern tunnel. Dawnheart watched as the dark warrior’s tail disappeared into the forest.

“It’s not fair.” Frayclaw hissed behind him.

Dawnheart turned to face his denmate. He knew he should feel Frayclaw’s anger but he was just so tired. All he wanted to do was sit by Spottedfur’s side and close his eyes.

Frayclaw paused when he saw Dawnheart’s face. “Come on.” Frayclaw said after a moment. He nudged Dawnheart’s flank. “Let’s go sit with her.”

Dawnheart nodded, relieved. The two warriors padded back to the site of the vigil.

Honeyleaf and Quailstep had joined the mourners. Dawnheart sat down next to the queens. Frayclaw settled down beside him.

Dawnheart heaved a long sigh and leaned into Frayclaw’s warm side. He closed his eyes and relived moments from the past where Spottedfur was alive and well. This is where she would reside for him now, only in memory, until he joined her in the ever green forests of StarClan.

. . .

Dawnheart’s eyes shot open. He felt a stab of shame. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep.

The gray light of dawn was beginning to creep into the forest. It would soon be time for the elders to bury Spottedfur. The camp was silent except for the wheezing breaths of Beepelt and Hollowtree. Dawnheart exhaled and was surprised to see a white cloud mist around his muzzle.

Frayclaw tensed beside him.

“I hear the patrol.” He muttered into Dawnheart’s ear.

Dawnheart strained his senses and he too picked up the sounds of a group of cats making their way to the fern tunnel. After a few moments the patrol pushed their way one by one into the camp. They all bore wounds.

“What happened?” Plumleaf demanded. She rose from her spot at Spottedfur’s head and stalked over to the battle-worn warriors. Blizzardstar stepped forward to meet her.

“WillowClan refused to take me to Cougarstar.”

Dawnheart was shocked to hear that his leader’s normally strong and deep voice had become raspy and thin. An icy claw of horror stabbed at him when he saw a red gash at Blizzardstar’s neck.

“You’re injured!” Honeyleaf wailed.

“Do you need an extra set of claws to teach WillowClan a lesson?” Croaked Hollowtree.

Beepelt and Foxtail got up and paced. Low growls escaped their throats. 

As if summoned by the commotion a few warriors bound for the dawn patrol slipped out of the warrior’s den. Elkheart, Blackmoth, and Kestrelfeather hurried over once they spotted the crowd.

“How’d it go?” Kestrelfeather began as he padded up to Falconstorm. His eyes widened as his gaze fell on his brother’s scratched flank and torn ear. “Great StarClan!”

Blackmoth stepped up next to Dawnheart and Frayclaw while Plumleaf and Petalpaw began examining injuries.

“What happened?” She asked Dawnheart.

Dawnheart shook his head. “They just got back. All we know is that Cougarstar refused to see Blizzardstar.” He said.

“You need that patched immediately.” Plumleaf said to Blizzardstar. He looked like he was on the verge of arguing but obeyed.

“Shadowgrove and Brushfire you come too. Those wounds need dressing.” Plumleaf ordered with a flick of her plumy tail. The warriors followed Plumleaf to the medicine den.

The remaining cats turned their attention to Falconstorm and Whiteshade.

“Can somecat _please_ explain what happened?” Kestrelfeather demanded.

“We went to the border and waited for a patrol.” Whiteshade began. “When one finally came they refused to take us to Cougarstar. When Blizzardstar insisted they threatened us. Brushfire challenged them and they attacked.”

“There was more than one patrol by then.” Falconstorm grunted between licking his wounds. “We were outnumbered.”

Falconstorm’s pronouncement was met by more muttering and growls from the elders and queens.

Dawnheart felt a chill. What was happening? The Clans had been at peace for moons and suddenly they were attacking gathering patrols and elders?

Elkheart raised his voice over the noise. “What is Blizzardstar going to do?” he asked.

Whiteshade looked over his gathered Clanmates, battered, grieving, and fearful. His amber eyes dropped to his paws.

“I don’t know.”


	10. Heritage

“ _Where am I?”_

_Fear, guilt, anger. Rising panic as the pain spread from his belly to his throat._

_“No. This is what I deserve.”_

_“You fool.” A mocking voice in the darkness. A pair of green eyes smoldering from somewhere past his senses._

_Rage. Rage like he had never felt._

_“You foxheart!” The word cracking his lips. “You lied to me!” Pain, rippling across his body. Darkness obscuring him like water, only fear and the lingering taste of sweetness on his tongue._

_“You knew what you were doing. You knew.” That voice, that wretched voice._

_Faces flashing in his memory. Terror, confusion, pain. Stretching his paws to find comfort in the endless nothing. Nothing. Only horror and bloody claws._

_“Don’t trust her. DON’T LISTEN TO HER!”_

Heronpaw jolted awake, gasping for air. For a moment he panicked, remembering a choking, burning feeling in his throat. Nothing was wrong, however. He was fine. He slowed his breathing, trying to remember. The dregs of his dream clung to his mind like dew to whiskers. He shook his head, trying to dispel them.

_Don’t listen to her._ That was all he could think of. The desperation in the voice echoed in Heronpaw’s head. Don’t listen to who? He squeezed his eyes shut. _It was just a dream_.

“Heronpaw?” Petalpaw’s soft voice drifted to him as if over a great distance. “Are you awake?”

Heronpaw forced his eyes open. Petalpaw’s tabby pelt came into focus. He lifted his head.

“You look terrible!” Petalpaw said, rushing forward to touch her nose to Heronpaw’s forehead.

“You don’t have a fever…are you alright?” She pressed him. Heronpaw shook his head.

“I’m fine, just a bad dream.” He grunted. Petalpaw’s ears flattened.

“The poppy seed should’ve given you dreamless sleep.” She said, tearing at the mossy ground with her claws. Heronpaw could see that she was worried she did something wrong. He forced himself to purr.

“It’s fine, really. More of a headache than a nightmare probably.” He said. “Help me up, my leg’s kind of stiff.”

Petalpaw let Heronpaw lean on her as he heaved himself to his paws. He stretched and moved his shoulder, trying to assess it. Petalpaw sniffed it and touched it with a paw, but she didn’t look confident at all.

“I can’t tell how it’s healing.” She admitted. “Plumleaf will know.”

Together they left the apprentice’s den, Heronpaw limping slightly. Petalpaw hurried him to the medicine clearing. As they crossed the camp, Heronpaw noticed an increase in the normal morning activity of the clan. Whiteshade had a crowd of warriors around him, and as Heronpaw watched a patrol of six warriors split off and bounded away.

The two apprentices entered the medicine clearing. Heronpaw was surprised to see Brushfire curled up in one of the nests, her herb-plastered flank slowly rising and falling in the rhythm of sleep. His surprise grew as Blizzardstar emerged from Plumleaf’s cavern, his neck wrapped with cobwebs. Heronpaw stopped dead.

“What happened last night?” he asked, bewildered. Petalpaw drew him off to the side of the clearing to wait for Plumleaf. The medicine cat had come out behind Blizzardstar and was giving his neck a final check.

“There was a fight.” Petalpaw said quietly. Heronpaw stared at her.

“At the _gathering_?”

“No, after.” Petalpaw launched into a story about what had happened at the gathering, how some stragglers had been attacked by a Willowclan patrol leading to Spottedfur’s accidental death, and Blizzardstar’s failed attempt at confronting Cougarstar.

Heronpaw was dumbfounded.

“What is Cougarstar thinking?!” he said loudly. Petalpaw shushed him, flicking her tail at Brushfire. Heronpaw clamped his jaws shut.

“Quit gossiping.” Plumleaf said, padding over to Heronpaw. Blizzardstar was leaving, apparently cleared for duty. Heronpaw watched him go, still so startled by the news that he thought was going to fall over. Plumleaf did her examination and asked him questions. Heronpaw answered, half paying attention.

Had all of that really happened while he was asleep? From one day to the next, his clan had gone from peaceful and prosperous to on the verge of war.

A thought occurred to him. The white cat. He had seen her on the day of his accident, and the nights leading up to the gathering. Was she an omen of the conflict with Willowclan?

“You’re clear to take him for therapy.” Plumleaf said, interrupting Heronpaw’s thoughts.

“Come on then.” Petalpaw said briskly. “Let’s get something to eat and then go exercise.”

Heronpaw followed her out of the medicine clearing and to the fresh-kill pile. His head was still spinning with the news. Petalpaw chose a squirrel and dragged it over so they could share. As they ate, Heronpaw watched the clan bustling about.

“I need a patrol to go to the Willowclan border after sunhigh.” Whiteshade was saying.

“I’ll lead one.” Swiftwing volunteered. Whiteshade nodded.

“Take Hawkpaw, Slatefoot, Cherrynose, and Kestrelfeather.”

Heronpaw felt a stab of annoyance as his mentor’s name was called for a patrol without him. He also noted how large the patrol was. The Willowclan border was being treated like a warzone.

Swiftwing leaned over to Hawkpaw and waved his tail at the fresh-kill pile. The apprentice nodded and bounded over. He grabbed a mouse and settled down across from Heronpaw and Petalpaw.

“Hey!” Hawkpaw greeted them. “Glad to see you’re up and about. I can’t believe you slept through all the excitement last night.”

Heronpaw twitched his whiskers. Leave it to Hawkpaw to be completely tactless.

“Cats were injured, Hawkpaw. Spottedfur _died_. I’d hardly call that excitement.” Petalpaw mewed coolly.

Hawkpaw had the decency to look ashamed for a heartbeat.

“Did Petalpaw tell you what happened?” he asked, taking a mouthful of his mouse.

“Yeah.” Heronpaw said.

“It was crazy.” Hawkpaw said through his mouthful. “Cougarstar has bees in her brain if she thinks Cedarclan is taking this lying down.”

Heronpaw grunted. Hawkpaw was treating this like it was exciting or cool. Heronpaw felt sick about the whole thing.

Hawkpaw gulped down the rest of his meal in silence, thankfully. He swiped his tongue around his jaws and jumped up.

“I’m off to get ready for patrol.” He said importantly. “Blizzardstar has doubled the guard at the border. Maybe I’ll get to shred some Willowclan fur!” He turned and bounded over to Swiftwing and the others. Kestrelfeather greeted him with a friendly flick of his tail. Heronpaw sighed.

“Only a day or two more and you’ll be back with them.” Petalpaw said.

Heronpaw really hoped she was right.

. . .

That day and the next went by without fuss. Heronpaw did his exercises with Petalpaw and even was allowed to hunt. His shoulder was no longer stiff in the morning, and even running didn’t hurt. There was no more trouble at the Willowclan border, much to the disappointment of Hawkpaw.

On the third sunrise after the gathering, Heronpaw woke at dawn to frost on his fur and the news that he could go back to training full time.

“Thank Starclan!” He said after Petalpaw had shared the news.

“What? Getting sick of me?” Petalpaw mewed, her whiskers twitching.

“I was sick of you on day one!” Heronpaw purred.

“Well fine!” Petalpaw said in mock distress. She whirled around and loped dramatically away from the apprentices den. “Don’t be a stranger!” she called over her shoulder.

Heronpaw purred as he watched her go. The past few days had been frustrating, yes, but with Petalpaw for company they had been more than bearable. Best of all, the white cat hadn’t visited him and he hadn’t had any more nightmares.

Heronpaw gave himself a quick grooming before padding over to the gathering crowd of warriors ready for their assignments. He found Kestrelfeather and sat down next to his mentor. Excitement made his paws itch. Finally back to duties!

“Welcome back.” Kestrelfeather purred, his green eyes glowing. Heronpaw straightened up and puffed his chest out. He was ready to prove that he hadn’t fallen behind his littermates.

“You’ve been missed.” Another voice came from behind. Heronpaw turned and saw Dawnheart and Frayclaw joining the group. It was Dawnheart who had spoken. The two warriors settled down next to Heronpaw.

“I was so sorry to hear about Spottedfur.” Heronpaw said, dipping his head to his friends. This was the first time since the incident that Heronpaw had the chance to speak to them. Frayclaw nodded back, but avoided eye contact. Dawnheart sighed.

“Thank you.” He said. Grief was still evident in his voice. Heronpaw’s heart twisted for his friends. He couldn’t imagine losing somecat close to him.

“Whiteshade is here.” Kestrelfeather said, nudging Heronpaw. Heronpaw looked up to see the clan deputy was exiting Blizzardstar’s den. Whiteshade jumped up onto an old stump. The crowd of warriors fell quiet. Whiteshade began to give out assignments for border and hunting patrols. As cats were called, they moved away into groups to leave or to rest before they set out.

“Kestrelfeather, you and Swiftwing can take Heronpaw and Hawkpaw out for training.” Whiteshade said.

“We aren’t needed somewhere else?” Kestrelfeather called back. Whiteshade shook his head.

“The Willowclan border has been quiet.” He said. “But if trouble is coming we need to keep on our toes.”

Kestrelfeather seemed satisfied and turned to Heronpaw.

“How about some battle training with Hawkpaw?” he asked. Heronpaw’s tail shot up in delight.

“That sounds great!”

Kestrelfeather waved his tail to Swiftwing and Hawkpaw. Hawkpaw bounded over while Swiftwing followed looking bemused.

“Finally I get to show you what you’ve missed!” Hawkpaw said as he reached them. He circled Heronpaw, his tail thrashing. Heronpaw rolled his eyes.

“I know for a fact you haven’t learned anything new. You’ve been doing nothing but hunting and patrolling.”

“I’ve learned more than you think!” Hawkpaw hissed playfully. “Race you to the training grounds!”

“You’re on!” Heronpaw said. Without waiting, he took off through the fern tunnel and burst out into the forest. He could hear Hawkpaw thundering after him. Heronpaw put on a burst of speed, letting his paws fly over the undergrowth. He expertly stepped over the curling ferns and twisting roots that threatened to trip him. Excitement flared in his chest. His shoulder didn’t hurt! No throbs of pain, no ache of atrophy.

“On your left!” Hawkpaw called, leaping over a rock to take the lead. Heronpaw growled and streaked after his brother. The exercises he had done with Petalpaw had made his muscles stronger than they had been before. They flexed beneath his coat, propelling him forward through the dimly lit forest. In moments he had overtaken Hawkpaw, much to the tabby apprentice’s surprise.

“You got fast!” Hawkpaw gasped.

“You got slow!” Heronpaw shot back. The pair burst through a frostbitten honeysuckle bush and skidded to a halt in the training clearing.

“I beat you!” Heronpaw howled. Hawkpaw’s tail thrashed, but a purr swelled in his throat.

“Live it up. You won’t get that lucky again.”

Rusting in the bushes announced Kestrelfeather and Swiftwing. The warriors’ eyes were bright with the exercise and thrill of speeding through the trees.

“Alright you two,” Kestrelfeather stepped forward. “Let’s see an attack crouch.”

Heronpaw and Hawkpaw instantly fell into offensive crouches.

“Defensive crouch!” Kestrelfeather barked. The apprentices changed their stances in a fluid motion. Heronpaw was happy to find that his muscle memory hadn’t faded over the last quarter moon.

“Mouse crouch! Rabbit crouch! Bird crouch!” Kestrelfeather continued without mercy. Swiftwing circled Heronpaw and Hawkpaw, making notes and nudging tails and haunches back into line with his muzzle.

After Kestrelfeather had drilled them on what felt like every crouch they had ever learned, they began sparring in earnest.

“Pretend Heronpaw is a Willowclan warrior.” Swiftwing instructed Hawkpaw. “Heronpaw, crouch lower. Willowclan cats stay low and use their speed to overwhelm their opponents.”

Heronpaw crouched low, remembering the lithe bodies of the Willowclan warriors he had met. He straightened his tail and balanced his weight on his toes, ready to move at the twitch of a whisker. Hawkpaw crouched too, but his weight was focused on his back paws. Seeing the opening, Heronpaw flashed forwards and rammed his shoulder into Hawkpaw’s back leg. Hawkpaw wobbled, unbalanced. With a flash of triumph, Heronpaw darted back in, ready to knock his opponent to the ground. Instead, Hawkpaw pivoted on one back foot, letting Heronpaw dive past him. Heronpaw crashed into the soft dirt, surprised.

“Well done Hawkpaw!” Swiftwing called. Hawkpaw looked to his mentor to bask in the praise, leaving himself wide open. Heronpaw took the opportunity to roll over behind Hawkpaw and leap onto his broad shoulders. Hawkpaw squawked as Heronpaw’s weight flattened him to the ground.

“Keep focused!” Swiftwing growled, exasperated. “Just because you think you’ve won doesn't mean you have.”

Heronpaw stepped off his brother, letting Hawkpaw up out of the dirt. Hawkpaw sputtered, trying to get the soil out of his mouth.

“Good job taking advantage of the distraction, Heronpaw.” Kestrelfeather said. Heronpaw stood taller under his mentor’s praise.

“Here, let me show you something.” Kestrelfeather said to Hawkpaw. He stepped forward and reared up, balancing on one back leg. Before he could demonstrate, he was interrupted by Falconstorm shoving his way into the clearing.

Kestrelfeather dropped to his paws in surprise. Heronpaw shied away from his father’s gaze, but Falconstorm only had eyes for Swiftwing.

“Swiftwing, Honeyleaf sent me to find you.” Falconstorm said. Swiftwing’s ears flattened.

“What? Is something wrong?” he said, his tail twitching. Falconstorm shook his head.

“She didn't say, just that she needed you.” he said. Swiftwing looked to Kestrelfeather.

“Go.” Kestrelfeather flicked his tail. “Falconstorm and I will finish up here.”

Swiftwing nodded gratefully and sped away through the undergrowth. Heronpaw shifted his weight from paw to paw nervously. Was Honeyleaf ok? Were the kits ok?

“I’m sure everything is fine.” Kestrelfeather muttered into Heronpaw’s ear. Heronpaw nodded.

“I want to see that move, Kestrelfeather.” Hawkpaw said, flexing his claws. His twitching tail betrayed his annoyance at being caught off guard before. Kestrelfeather nodded and began to demonstrate again.

He reared up into the unbalanced pose that Hawkpaw had been stuck in before. Instead of trying to rebalance himself, Kestrelfeather let himself fall backwards onto the ground with a loud thump. Heronpaw flinched as he imagined being crushed beneath Kestrelfeather’s dead weight. Kestrelfeather got up, brushing the dirt off of his pelt.

“See, if there was an enemy on my back, they would have been flattened.” he said to Hawkpaw. Hawkpaw nodded vigorously.

“Your instincts tell you to fall forward onto your paws.” Falconstorm said, padding forward. “If you fall back, you can knock the air out of your opponent and daze them.” His amber eyes swept over to Heronpaw.

“Try it.” Falconstorm commanded. Heronpaw hesitated, looking to Kestrelfeather. His mentor nodded.

Heronpaw padded to the center of the clearing.

“Wanna get squashed first?” Hawkpaw asked, his grey eyes sparkling. Heronpaw rolled his eyes.

“Sure.”

Heronpaw got into position behind Hawkpaw. Hawkpaw reared up and Heronpaw leapt. He dug his claws into Hawkpaw’s shoulders, careful not to pierce skin. Hawkpaw lurched backwards and fell. The pair crashed into the ground. Heronpaw felt the air being forced from his lungs as Hawkpaw’s heavier frame slammed into his chest. Heronpaw coughed.

Hawkpaw rolled off his brother, his tail held high in triumph.

“Wow! That works really well!” he said.

“My turn.” Heronpaw gasped, still trying to regain his breath. Hawkpaw took his place behind Heronpaw who reared up like he had seen Kestrelfeather do. When he felt Hawkpaw’s weight dig into his shoulders, his first instinct was to fall to his paws to regain his balance. Instead he jerked his head backwards, trying to fall on top of his attacker. What he didn’t expect was Hawkpaw’s head to be in the way.

Skull met muzzle with a crack and Hawkpaw cried out as they hit the soil. Heronpaw rolled off and scrambled to his paws. The back of his head hurt.

Hawkpaw was still on his back, his muzzle bloodied.

“What did you do?!” Falconstorm shouldered Heronpaw aside with a fierce growl. Heronpaw stumbled, shocked by the sight of the blood spouting from Hawkpaw’s nose. 

“Ids just a bloody node.” Hawkpaw spluttered through the gore. “Imb fine.”

Falconstorm nudged Hawkpaw to his paws. Scarlet blood splattered to the ground. Heronpaw dashed forwards feeling sick.

“I’m sorry!” he gasped. “I jerked too hard!” Before Heronpaw could reach his brother, Falconstorm whirled around and blocked his way.

“Stay back!” he snarled. “You’ve done enough damage.”

Heronpaw faltered, fearful of the sudden ferocity in Falconstorm’s voice. Kestrelfeather hurried to Hawkpaw’s side, examining his nose.

“I’m sure it’s just a bloody nose.” he assured Falconstorm, but the larger warrior was still agitated.

“I’m taking you to Plumleaf.” he said, herding Hawkpaw in the direction of camp.

“Imb fine Falcondorb, really!” Hawkpaw tried to protest but within heartbeats Falconstorm had pushed him through the undergrowth and out of sight.

Heronpaw stood motionless in the clearing among his brother’s blood. His ears felt cold.

“It was a mistake.” Kestrelfeather said, padding over and touching his nose to Heronpaw’s ear. “Hawkpaw will be just-”

“Why does he hate me?” Heronpaw burst out. He couldn’t hold it in any longer. Not after that display.

Kestrelfeather looked startled.

“Who, Falconstorm?” he said, looking down at his apprentice.

Heronpaw cast his gaze down at his paws. He flexed his claws in and out of the dark dirt.

“Yes.” he mumbled miserably. “It’s like he can't even stand to look at me.”

“Falconstorm does not hate you.” Kestrelfeather mewed firmly. Heronpaw looked up into his uncle’s green eyes. He could tell that Kestrelfeather believed what he said, but Heronpaw could only remember the anger in his father’s eyes.

Kestrelfeather sighed. “Walk with me.” he said, moving across the clearing opposite the side that Falconstorm and Hawkpaw had left from. Heronpaw reluctantly followed.

They walked for a bit in silence. Heronpaw felt worse and worse with each paw step. Did Kestrelfeather really have nothing to say to ease his fears?

“Did you know we have another brother?” Kestrelfeather finally said.

Heronpaw’s jerked his head up and stared at his uncle.

“What?!”

Kestrelfeather was staring straight ahead.

“His name was Cranewing.” he continued. “You look just like him.”

Heronpaw didn’t respond. He just stared, waiting for an explanation for this ridiculous pronouncement.

“We grew up just like you and your brothers.” Kestrelfeather’s voice echoed with memories and an underlying pain. “Always bickering, driving each other crazy.” He purred, obviously remembering a simpler time.

“Falconstorm and Cranewing never got along well. I was the only reason they could stand each other.”

Heronpaw heard the distant rushing of the river. They were headed to the rough waters inside Cedarclan territory.

“There was this she-cat.” Kestrelfeather continued. “Songbird. She was the only thing that Falconstorm and Cranewing agreed on. Unfortunately, Songbird could only choose one of them.”

For some reason, Heronpaw immediately thought of Petalpaw, her tabby coat shining in the soft light of the medicine clearing.

“She ended up choosing Falconstorm-”

“Wait, but Ferntail is Falconstorm’s mate!” Heronpaw interrupted. Kestrelfeather stopped at the edge of a small hill that led down to the churning river. He looked out over the water with an unreadable expression in his green eyes.

“Falconstorm has loved more than once in his life.” He said slowly.

Heronpaw fell silent once more.

“Songbird didn’t want to hurt anycat, so she wanted to reject Cranewing as kindly as possible. When she told him she loved Falconstorm, Cranewing was angry and heartbroken.” Kestrelfeather looked down at his paws. His eyes smoldered.

“Cranewing always had a temper.” Kestrelfeather’s voice was so low that it was almost carried away in the sound of the rushing river.

“He was angry with Songbird.” he said slightly louder. “He blamed her and Falconstorm for ruining his life. He scared Songbird with his anger. She ran away from him and he gave chase.”

Heronpaw’s heartbeat was pounding in his ears.

“I don’t know exactly what happened.” Kestrelfeather said. “But neither of them ever came back. Songbird’s body washed up on the Alderclan side of the lake a sunrise later.”

“And Cranewing?” Heronpaw dared to ask. Kestrelfeather shook his head.

“Falconstorm was the last cat to see him. He was looking for Songbird on the river’s edge when he found Cranewing, staring into the rapids. He said that they had argued and Songbird fell in. He blamed himself and told Falconstorm he could never come home.” Kestrelfeather tore his gaze away from the river and looked Heronpaw right in the eyes.

“Falconstorm let him go, and we’ve never seen him since.”

Kestrelfeather fell silent. For several heartbeats, the only sound was the river.

“So, Falconstorm judges me because I look like your brother.” Heronpaw finally managed to say.

Kestrelfeather didn’t look at him.

“I’m not trying to remove blame from Falconstorm.” he said. “He should love you unconditionally.” Kestrelfeather finally turned to look Heronpaw in the eyes.

“But when he sees you, he can only remember the day he lost a mate and a brother.”

A shard of ice pierced Heronpaw’s heart.

“Is that what you see too?” he asked quietly. Kestrelfeather’s eyes widened.

“No! No, Heronpaw, never.” he said firmly.

“So why does he?” Heronpaw spat. “I’m not Cranewing. I’m his son.”

“I know.” Kestrelfeather murmured. He licked Heronpaw’s ear. Heronpaw flinched away involuntarily. Kestrelfeather paused and backed away.

“Is it because I’m not Songbird’s son too?” Heronpaw felt anger rising in his chest. “Is it because Ferntail was his second choice?”

Kestrelfeather stepped in front of Heronpaw, forcing his apprentice to look at him.

“Falconstorm loves your mother.” Kestrelfeather hissed. “She respects herself too much to be second best.”

The shard of ice pushed itself deeper into Heronpaw’s heart, driving away his momentary anger for his mother’s sake.

“So it’s just me.” He said, his ears and tail drooping. “There’s no reason other than that I was born.”

Kestrelfeather didn’t answer. Heronpaw took the opportunity and spun around, dashing back into the forest. He ignored Kestrelfeather’s yelp of “Hey!” and ran as fast as he could away from his uncle.

Heronpaw hardly registered where he was going, he just wanted to get away from Kestrelfeather’s pity and the memory of Falconstorm’s anger. He ran until his muscles ached, and only slowed when he remembered Petalpaw’s warning to not exert himself. He came to a halt at the edge of a small pool of water left behind by the night’s rain. He sat with a sigh, and stared into his reflection.

He studied his eyes, a piercing yellow just like those of the great blue herons that nested by the lake. His fur, a smoky gray and black mess, was fluffed up against the chill wind. Why did he have to look like this? Why couldn’t he have his mother’s kind green eyes, or even his father’s angry amber ones? Where had this gray come from? He could've been born like Crowpaw, pure black and loved.

Why did he wear this face?

If Falconstorm had thought him weak or stupid at least then Heronpaw could’ve worked to prove him wrong. Instead, there was nothing Heronpaw could hope to do to erase the memories associated with his appearance.

Anger overcame him and he slammed his black and gray paws into his reflection, breaking apart his watery self over and over. As the scattered pieces swirled around his paws, Heronpaw’s heart grew heavy and he stilled himself. No matter how many times he destroyed this vision of himself, it would always reform the same. Traitorous.

Except this time it didn’t.

Instead of his face, a new one formed from the broken reflection. A white cat stared back up at him with his own eyes.

_“Don’t listen to her!”_


	11. Hunt

“Fox-dung!”

Heronpaw’s claws closed over nothing. His quarry, a starling, had lifted off moments before and was now filling the forest with a loud alarm call. Heronpaw stepped back, tail thrashing.

“Great, every piece of prey from here to the lake will have heard that.” Talonscore hissed. Heronpaw just kicked at a wilting fern and didn’t respond.

“Any cat can have bad luck.” Kestrelfeather shot back.

Heronpaw’s ears were hot with embarrassment and anger. He didn’t need Kestrelfeather to defend his sloppiness.

“We can try by the PineClan border.” Crowpaw offered quietly.

Heronpaw felt every cat’s gaze burning into his pelt.

“We should split up.” Kestrelfeather said. “I’ll take Heronpaw to the lake. Maybe we can get a fish.”

“And lemmings could fly.” Talonscore snorted, but didn’t argue. “Come on then.” He growled to his apprentice.

Crowpaw hesitated, still looking towards Heronpaw. Heronpaw pointedly avoided his brother’s gaze. Eventually Crowpaw gave up and followed Talonscore away. 

“Don’t take Talonscore seriously.” Kestrelfeather said with a half-hearted purr. “Everycat is on edge with this WillowClan thing.”

Heronpaw only grunted. He turned and began padding in the direction of the lake, kicking stones aside as he went. Kestrelfeather bounded over and blocked Heronpaw’s way. He fixed Heronpaw with an irritated gaze.

“What is the matter with you?” He growled.

Heronpaw stood his ground and met Kestrelfeather’s gaze.

“I don’t know.” He said, narrowing his eyes. He felt petulant. He didn’t want to give Kestrelfeather the satisfaction of being right.

Kestrelfeather lashed his tail in annoyance.

“I know you’re angry about what I told you. He said in a calmer, quieter voice. “But you can’t let it get in the way of your training.”

Heronpaw snorted. How could it not interfere? He said nothing. 

“I didn’t tell you about Cranewing to make you angry.” He said after a moment.

Heronpaw flattened his ears. How else did Kestrelfeather expect him to respond? “Then why did you tell me?” Heronpaw demanded, fresh anger rising in his chest.

“If you hadn’t run off, I could’ve explained!” Kestrelfeather shot back.

The pair stood facing each other, neck fur bristling. Heronpaw didn’t want to hear what Kestrelfeather’s excuses were. He wanted to go home.

Kestrelfeather closed his eyes and his neck fur flattened.

“Heronpaw, you’re the spitting image of Cranewing, yes.” He opened his eyes and met Heronpaw’s gaze. “But you are nothing like him.”

“I don’t care! It doesn’t matter.” Heronpaw spat.

Kestrelfeather took step back, his ears flattening.

“As long as I look like Cranewing, Falconstorm will never see past my pelt.” Heronpaw whirled around and stalked through the bracken, anger pricking at his fur. Stupid Kestrelfeather. Why couldn’t he see? Falconstorm hadn’t even bothered to get to know his son to see if Heronpaw deserved the coldness he had shown him. Why would he bother now?

Heronpaw stomped through the brush, not caring that he was probably scaring away prey with the clamor. He couldn’t hear Kestrelfeather following. He was probably still standing there trying to decide what to do. A grim sense of satisfaction filled Heronpaw at the thought.

Suddenly the ferns parted in front of Heronpaw and a squirrel shot through the gap. Heronpaw’s instincts kicked in and he pounced awkwardly to one side, trying to pin down the creature’s fluffy tail. The surprise took its toll, however, and Heronpaw’s claws missed their mark for the second time that day. He cursed as the squirrel scooted up the young pine behind him. A heartbeat later, Crowpaw emerged from the undergrowth, his black tail twitching.

“You scared it away.” He said.

Heronpaw’s ears drooped in shame. “I tried to get it.” He offered lamely. Crowpaw shook his head.

“It’s fine.”

Heronpaw knew that it wasn’t fine. Leaf-fall was reaching its second moon. Soon the snows would come and force prey to burrow and hide. The Clan would go hungry. They needed to eat well this next moon if they hoped to survive.

“I’ll help you find more.” Heronpaw offered. Crowpaw’s ears twitched.

“What about Kestrelfeather?”

Heronpaw winced.

“We split up.” He said quickly. It wasn’t a total lie. “He was fed up with me.”

Crowpaw shrugged. “Let me ask Talonscore.”

Together they made their way back the direction Crowpaw had come from. Along the way Crowpaw dug up a mouse he had caught earlier. It took a while to find Talonscore. They kept following his scent back and forth through the trees. Eventually they caught up to the warrior as he was taking down a fat magpie. Talonscore straightened up, his mouth full of black and white feathers. He narrowed his yellow eyes at the apprentices and set down his catch.

“I thought you were supposed to be hunting prey, not apprentices.” He said with a lash of his tail. Crowpaw nodded his head. The mouse in his jaws did a little wiggle, forcing Talonscore to notice it. He shrugged.

“Well I guess you’ve done both.” He snorted.

“Crowpaw and I wanted to work together.” Heronpaw said for his brother. “We want to practice team hunting.”

Talonscore glanced in the direction of camp and churned his paws. Heronpaw could tell that the grumpy warrior was thinking about his mate, Quailstep. She would be kitting anytime now. Heronpaw imagined that going back to camp early would be tempting.

“All right.” Talonscore finally broke. “Just be back before sundown, and stay clear of the WillowClan border.”

“Can you takth ny nouth?” Crowpaw mumbled around his catch. Talonscore rolled his eyes and took the prey from his apprentice. The ginger warrior gathered up the magpie and took off through the bracken.

Crowpaw turned to Heronpaw. “Lead the way.”

Heronpaw paused to think. He mapped out CedarClan territory in his head. Kestrelfeather would be downhill from here; between them and the lake. If they went north they could avoid running into the warrior, but that would lead them towards the WillowClan border.

Heronpaw snorted. There would be a churning river between them and WillowClan in that part of the territory. How could there be any trouble?

“Come on.” Heronpaw said. He waved his tail to Crowpaw and took off through the trees.

They cut their way through CedarClan territory without incident. They almost ran into a patrol of five warriors heading to the lower WillowClan border but to Heronpaw’s relief none of the older cats noticed the apprentices.

Crowpaw followed Heronpaw’s lead silently. He must have figured out where they were going by then but thankfully he didn’t raise any concerns.

Heronpaw let his mind wander as they slipped through the undergrowth. He thought back to his argument with Kestrelfeather, and then to the day Kestrelfeather had revealed the truth. Heronpaw had seen the white cat in a way he had never seen her before. Was she trying to warn him of another disaster?

 _Why can’t she just_ tell _me?_ Heronpaw thought angrily. Why visit if there is nothing to warn him about?

He suddenly realized he was assigning behavior to the apparition like she was a real cat. When had he decided she was warning him of something? When had she become a she? He slowed his gait, trying to remember. 

The rushing of the river announced the nearing of the border. Heronpaw slowed his pace to a walk as he approached the tree-line. The river here was faster, narrower, and rockier than where Heronpaw had fallen in. The tree-line came much closer to the water’s edge and there wasn’t much bank to speak of. According to everything Heronpaw knew about forest prey he wouldn’t want to hunt here.

Heronpaw didn’t care about hunting right now. The more he thought about it he didn’t really know why he had wanted to come this way. Maybe it was because someone had told him not to.

“Are you okay?”

Heronpaw jumped. He had forgotten Crowpaw was even there. The black apprentice moved up so he was shoulder to shoulder with his brother. He was looking at Heronpaw with concern in his blue eyes.

Crowpaw’s earnest gaze made Heronpaw’s pelt crawl. He dropped his eyes to his paws and didn’t say anything.

“You’ve been acting strange today.” Crowpaw said. He looked out at the river between the trees.

Heronpaw grunted. He briefly considered telling Crowpaw everything, but what good would that do? Crowpaw couldn’t make Falconstorm love him. Crowpaw couldn’t make the visions stop. Telling Crowpaw would only make his brother feel just as helpless. No. Crowpaw didn’t need to know.

“It’s WillowClan.” Heronpaw growled. He hadn’t meant to sound so angry, but it helped sell the lie. It was true that he shared his Clan’s indignation over WillowClan’s actions, but Heronpaw knew that wasn’t what Crowpaw was getting at.

Crowpaw hesitated for a heartbeat. “They think they can get away with it.” He said quietly.

Heronpaw nodded. Real anger at WillowClan bubbled up in his belly. It was followed by a feeling of helplessness that made his stomach clench. He couldn’t do anything to avenge Spottedfur. He was just an apprentice who couldn’t even catch prey for his Clan. He gripped the chilly dirt with his claws. Why was he so _useless?_

“Blizzardstar won’t let them.” Crowpaw’s calm voice drifted to Heronpaw’s ears.

Heronpaw looked up at his brother, a biting remark at the tip of his tongue. It died away as Heronpaw saw the fire in Crowpaw’s eyes.

WillowClan needed to pay, but what could two apprentices do?

Heronpaw looked back over the river and drew his lips back in a snarl. The snarl faded as he caught sight of several tiny brown shapes flitting over the rocks.

“I have an idea.” Heronpaw said without thinking.

Crowpaw looked at him. His ear twitched but he said nothing.

Heronpaw forced his paws to move before he had a chance to really think through what he was about to do. He paused at the tree-line and looked up and down either side of the water’s edge. No cat was visible. Heronpaw grit his teeth and slipped out from the cover of the trees.

On quick paws he crept up to the water’s edge. Large stones jutted out from the river and along both banks. It would be easy for a cat to jump from one side to the other. His heart skipped a beat as he imagined doing it.

Crowpaw joined him a moment later. “What are you doing?” he hissed. He looked around, his tail twitching.

“Keep an eye out for me.” Heronpaw said without making eye contact. His heart thumped painfully in his chest but he ignored it. “I won’t be long.”

Before Crowpaw could protest Heronpaw crouched down and readied himself for a leap. He was about to jump when a sound from behind him startled him into performing a sort of half-leap against the side of the rock. Once he had his balance back he whirled around to see two cats approaching from the forest.

Frayclaw was stalking forward with purpose while Dawnheart followed with more hesitation in his steps. The warriors hadn’t noticed Heronpaw and Crowpaw yet. They were too busy arguing.

“Frayclaw you _can’t_.” Dawnheart was saying. His blue eyes were wide with fear.

Frayclaw’s eyes were fixed on the WillowClan side of the river. He took another stride forward and his gaze drifted to the left. The gray warrior froze as he spotted Heronpaw.

“What are you two doing?” The question rang less of accusation and more of genuine confusion.

Dawnheart caught up to his denmate and stared at the apprentices as well.

Heronpaw’s heart skipped a beat. He had been caught. It was obvious what he was about to do. There was no other explanation for being so close to the border like this. He was stupid.

“We thought we smelled a rouge.” Crowpaw said, raising his voice over the churning river.

Heronpaw forced himself not to gape at his brother’s easy lie. Instead he nodded. “It was an old scent. Probably nothing.”

Frayclaw and Dawnheart exchanged glances.

“It’s not safe near the border.” Dawnheart said slowly. He didn’t take his eyes off of Frayclaw the whole time. “You should go.”

Heronpaw and Crowpaw nodded and hurried away into the trees. Heronpaw paused to look back and saw that the warriors had left. He also saw something that made his blood run cold.

A patrol of WillowClan warriors had appeared on their side of the border. They were sniffing every rock and plant as they passed and their eyes stared across the river with suspicion.

Heronpaw swallowed hard and turned to follow Crowpaw deeper into the forest. 

The littermates spent the rest of the evening hunting as they had promised to do. A sharp chill came with a cutting wind as the sun dropped lower and lower in the sky. The sudden cold drove prey into their burrows and by the time the sun had set Heronpaw and Crowpaw only had a mouse and a scrawny blackbird between them.

They returned to camp in silence. Heronpaw was sure that Crowpaw wasn’t going to tell anyone what Heronpaw almost did, but he couldn’t help but feel uneasy as they padded through the entrance.

To Heronpaw’s annoyance, Kestrelfeather was pacing at the mouth of the fern tunnel. He bounded forward, his green eyes flashing with anger.

“I thought Talonscore said to be back by sundown!” he snapped.

Heronpaw kicked at the ground. “We didn’t want to come back empty-pawed.”

“Maybe you would’ve had more time to hunt if you weren’t messing around at the WillowClan border.” Kestrelfeather hissed.

Heronpaw’s stomach lurched. He looked up, confused.

Kestrelfeather narrowed his eyes. “I followed your scent. You can’t just run off like that.”

Heronpaw relaxed a little. Kestrelfeather hadn’t seen his near-trespass. His relief soon became overshadowed by embarrassment and annoyance. He didn’t have an excuse to give Kestrelfeather for running off or for wasting time at the border.

“Put your catches on the pile.” Kestrelfeather ordered.

With a low growl, Heronpaw stalked over to the fresh-kill pile. Crowpaw followed without a word.

“Don’t growl at me.” Kestrelfeather hissed as he came up behind them. He flicked his auburn ears at Crowpaw. “Talonscore is busy, but I’ll let him deal with you.”

Dismissed, Crowpaw nodded and backed away from the fresh-kill pile.

Kestrelfeather rounded on Heronpaw. “You’re on tick duty for the next quarter moon.” He said through gritted teeth.

Heronpaw opened his mouth to argue but one look from Kestrelfeather silenced his complaint. Instead, Heronpaw snatched up his scrawny bird and stalked away from his mentor. To his horror Hawkpaw and Specklepaw were sitting outside the apprentice’s den a few tail-lengths away. They were openly staring at him. 

Heronpaw avoided their eyes and plopped down to eat.

“Tough hunting?” Hawkpaw said after clearing his throat.

Heronpaw shrugged and crunched on his bird.

Hawkpaw tried again. “It’s getting colder. Must be hard for everyone.”

Specklepaw murmured in agreement. Heronpaw ignored them. Eventually they gave up and started chatting about Quailstep’s kitting. Apparently she had been laboring since sunhigh.

Heronpaw avoided entering the conversation. He was perfectly happy stirring in his own sullen attitude. As he ate, he found his gaze wandering to the nursery entrance. He sat there watching well past the time that Hawkpaw and Specklepaw had gone to their nests.

Eventually Petalpaw emerged from the medicine clearing with a bundle of leaves in her jaws. She bounded across the clearing and disappeared into the nursery. A few moments later, loud wails began drifting out of the den. Heronpaw’s ears pricked. Did that mean the kits were here?

Movement at the corner of Heronpaw’s vision caught his attention. A white shape was slinking along the camp’s outer barrier. Had Blizzardstar come to see how the kitting was coming?

No.

Heronpaw’s breath froze in his chest. It was her again. He watched her flit behind dens, as if she was afraid of being seen. Heronpaw didn’t move. He only tracked her with his eyes. She appeared in more detail than Heronpaw had yet seen her. She was sleek and beautiful. Her plumy tail was long and brushed lightly over the ground. Her ears and paws were small, and her movements were that of a warrior stalking its prey.

Eventually she stopped and turned to face Heronpaw. Her eyes reflected starlight. Heronpaw stared, unnerved. The she-cat held his gaze for a heartbeat, then turned and looked straight at the nursery.

Inexplicable panic gripped Heronpaw.

“No.” he said quietly. “Don’t you dare.”

She took a step forward, then looked back at him. Heronpaw rose to his paws.

“Stay away.” He warned. His entire body was shaking. Another yowl of pain echoed through the camp. The she-cat took another step. Heronpaw slid out his claws.

“They’re here!” the cry of triumph came suddenly, making Heronpaw jump. In an instant the white cat was gone, scattered into a thousand drops of starlight. Talonscore pushed his way out of the nursery, his tail hooked over his back in joy.

Murmurs of woken warriors drifted around camp. Several cats, including Kestrelfeather and Whiteshade, slid out of the warrior’s den to congratulate their denmate.

Behind the group of celebrating warriors, Heronpaw spotted Petalpaw slipping out of the nursery and making her way back to the medicine clearing. Heronpaw jumped up and intercepted her.

“Heronpaw!” she said, surprised but pleased. “Did you hear? Quailstep’s kits are here!”

“Are they healthy? Is Quailstep okay?” Heronpaw asked. He tried to keep the panic out of his voice. The question still came out sharper than he had intended.

“Oh yes. Every cat is healthy as can be.” Petalpaw chirped, seemingly unaware of Heronpaw’s tone. “It was amazing Heronpaw! It was just like my dream. I helped bring kits into the world!” Petalpaw rubbed her cheek along his, purring loudly. Heronpaw was startled by her sudden act of affection. Petalpaw herself seemed to realize what she had done only after she had done it. She took a step back from him, her eyes wide.

There was an awkward silence.

Petalpaw cleared her throat. “I should go, Quailstep needs borage.”

Without waiting for a response, Petalpaw dashed off to the medicine tunnel.

Heronpaw stared after her, but not because of what had just happened. No, he stared at the entrance of the medicine tunnel because the white cat had reappeared there.

She met his gaze with calm, empty eyes. She raised her tail and put it to her muzzle.

A breeze cut through the camp, freezing Heronpaw to his core.


	12. Snow

Dawnheart awoke rather suddenly to the sound of coughing. He shifted in his nest idly. A cascade of freezing snow slid down his pelt and filled the cracks between his limbs and flank. With a squeal he jumped up, bewildered. Snow? In the warrior's den?

He looked around in the half-light to discover that the cats around him were dusted in a layer of fresh snow.

"Wake up!" He called. "It snowed!"

The warriors around him began waking with grunts and angry hisses. These died away soon, though, as they realize what had happened. The cats stood abruptly, shaking the snow off their coats. 

"It's freezing!" Cherrynose complained, brushing the whiteness off her muzzle. Swiftwing shook out his coat beside her.

"It's too early for snow." he grumbled.

"Obviously not." Whiteshade said with a sigh. "Every cat come out to the clearing. I'll wake Blizzardstar." He turned and squeezed out of the den.

One by one the warriors left the den, still shaking their pelts and grumbling. Dawnheart looked around in awe at the snow-covered camp. It was like an entirely new world. The gray light of dawn caused a soft glow to emanate from the new drifts.

Frayclaw padded up to his denmate's shoulder. "This is weird." he said. "It's not even leaf-bare yet."

Dawnheart nodded in agreement.

The camp was waking up around them. Talonscore had run to check on the nursery and the sound of wailing kits drifted up through the bramble covered den. The apprentices were leaving their den as well, blinking in confusion. Angry hisses sounded from the elder's fallen log.

"Warriors and apprentices!" Whiteshade called from the entrance of Blizzardstar's den. "Gather round." 

The CedarClan cats formed a semicircle around the hollow tree that their leader used as a den. Whiteshade and Sweetsorrel crept out, followed by Blizzardstar himself.

The huge white tom surveyed the camp. His blue eyes were dark.

"We need to organize." he said. "Whiteshade you oversee reinforcing the camp against the cold. Brushfire, we need a stocked fresh-kill pile."

Brushfire nodded. "You can count on me." she purred.

“What about the WillowClan border?” Falconstorm called out.

"I'll lead the dawn patrol." Blizzardstar said. “After that we can start a rotating shift.” He gestured to Sweetsorrel and Elkheart and the three warriors slipped away from the group.

Dawnheart’s stomach wiggled uncomfortably. He didn’t want to go back to the WillowClan border anytime soon. He hoped he would be left out of the rotation, but he knew deep down that every warrior needed to do their part.

Whiteshade stepped forward and looked over the gathered warriors.

“I want six warriors and the apprentices here in camp.” Whiteshade said. He turned to Brushfire. “I assume that leaves you with enough hunters?”

Brushfire flicked her tail over his flank. “I suppose.”

The group of warriors began splitting into two groups. Dawnheart turned to Frayclaw.

“I’m going out to hunt.” He said. He glanced nervously at Frayclaw, looking for a trace of the unreasonable anger he had shown the previous day.

Frayclaw just nodded. “I’ll come with you.”

Relief flooded through Dawnheart.

They moved off to the side where Ferntail, Cloudspots, and Slatefoot were gathered. Runningriver and Kestrelfeather joined them a moment later.

Once every cat was sorted, Whiteshade and Brushfire began giving out assignments.

"Slatefoot, you and Runningriver go to the Fallen Tree." Brushfire decided. "Ferntail, take Cloudspots to the Slaterocks. There might be prey sunning themselves." Slatefoot and Runningriver took off. Cloudspots stood up and immediately lapsed into a coughing fit.

Dawnheart stood up, ready to jump to the older warrior’s side and steady him. Ferntail got there first.

"Are you alright?" She mewed, looking anxious.

Cloudspots nodded despite his continued coughing.

Brushfire looked down her nose at Cloudspots. She scrutinized him until his fit had subsided. "Can you hunt?" she asked.

Cloudspots looked up at her through watery eyes. "Yes." he wheezed. Before any cat could argue, the older warrior made a run for the fern tunnel. Ferntail followed, her long tail lashing. Dawnheart shared her concern. This was no time for cats to be getting sick.

"Frayclaw and Dawnheart you head to the stream. Kestrelfeather you're with me." Brushfire finished.

Dawnheart shook himself as he heard his name called. Cloudspots would be fine. He could take care of himself. Dawnheart had other things to worry about. He turned to Frayclaw.

"Ready to go?"

The gray warrior nodded and together they bounded across the clearing and through the fern tunnel.

They burst out into a frozen forest. The sun was slowly but surely creeping through the trees, casting everything with odd horizontal shadows. Snow was on every surface, delicately covering even the tiniest of branches and leaves. Foliage that had been hanging on to life the day before now lay limply under a blanket of frost.

Dawnheart sniffed gingerly at a dead patch of marigold. "Plumleaf is going to be upset." he said, shifting his weight from paw to paw.

"I'm sure she's got herb stocks." Frayclaw reassured his friend.

Dawnheart hoped he was right.

There was an awkward silence between them for a moment.

“About yesterday…” Frayclaw began.

Dawnheart raised his tail for silence. “It’s okay, Frayclaw.”

Frayclaw scraped at the snow-covered ground. “I almost got you hurt.” He protested.

“But you didn’t.” Dawnheart brushed his cheek along Frayclaw’s jawline. “You made the right decision in the end.”

Frayclaw cast Dawnheart a grateful look. Then the gray warrior’s gaze dropped to his paws. “I still want them to pay for what happened.” He said quietly.

Dawnheart’s heart twisted. “Blizzardstar will see it through.”

“It’s just so hard to wait.” Frayclaw sighed. 

Dawnheart nodded. The looming promise of a battle with WillowClan was like a choking fog over every cat’s head. Now that Leafbare had come early the threat was even greater.

“Let’s hunt.” Dawnheart said. Action would make them both feel better.

The toms followed an invisible trail through the trees, ears pricked and mouths open. The scents of the forest were muted under the cold. Dawnheart strained, trying to pick up a whiff of prey. He felt Frayclaw stiffen beside him.

Dawnheart cast a glance at his companion. Frayclaw's gray eyes were fixed on a spot above Dawnheart's shoulder. He slowly turned his head and saw a raven perched in the tree above them.

Instinctively, Dawnheart sank further down into the snow, ignoring the cold at his belly. Frayclaw gathered his back legs beneath him, ready to pounce.

With a mighty leap Frayclaw launched himself from the snow and up into the air. He stretched his front claws out above his head. One snagged the raven's wing. With a squawk, the raven was wrenched down as Frayclaw fell back to earth. Dawnheart pounced and pinned the bird under his paws before it could get away. He delivered a killing bite, silencing the animal before it could make any more noise.

"Nice." Frayclaw purred.

Dawnheart pawed snow over his kill. "We make good team." he said with a playful nudge.

Their catch hidden from other predators, Dawnheart and Frayclaw continued across the snowy ground. They found no traces of prey as they approached the small stream that ran through the center of CedarClan territory.

Dawnheart was pleased to hear bubbling water as they drew closer. An unfrozen stream meant that prey would be drawn here.

By sunhigh, Dawnheart and Frayclaw had caught two water voles and a squirrel between them. Despite the sun's rays shining directly overhead, the snow persisted. Dawnheart fluffed his pelt out against the cold. His pads ached and his legs were freezing. In order to get the voles he had splashed his way across the freezing stream.

"Do you think this is enough?" he asked Frayclaw. Frayclaw looked out over the forest, his mouth open to catch any scents.

"I think we got lucky finding this much." he decided. "Let's head back."

Dawnheart grabbed his voles and Frayclaw heaved the squirrel into his jaws. Together they began to pick their way back to camp.

Before they reached the entrance, Dawnheart stopped suddenly, causing Frayclaw to run into him.

"We forgot the raven!" Dawnheart said.

Frayclaw dropped his squirrel. "I'll go back."

Dawnheart blocked Frayclaw's way. "It was my catch."

Frayclaw scowled. "You got soaked." he argued. “You’ll catch cold.”

"It won't take long." Dawnheart said. 

Frayclaw glared at Dawnheart. He planted his gray paws in the snow.

Dawnheart rolled his eyes at his denmate’s stubbornness. “I don’t need a chaperone, Frayclaw.”

The gray warrior held his ground. 

Dawnheart put on his best pleading face. He stretched his eyes wide and flattened his ears. "Please?"

Frayclaw snorted and looked away, his tail twitching. Dawnheart felt a surge of satisfaction.

The gray warrior bent down to grab the fresh-kill by their tails. Seeing his chance, Dawnheart stole a quick lick on the top of his friend's head. Before Frayclaw could retaliate Dawnheart dashed away with a loud purr.

"See you back at camp!" he called.

Frayclaw responded with a muffled yowl.

Dawnheart followed Frayclaw's scent trail back through the trees to where the raven lay buried. He began digging through the snow after the bird.

The sound of approaching pawsteps through the snow made him look up.

"Frayclaw, I said I could do it by-" he cut off. No one was there. Dawnheart looked around. "Frayclaw?" he asked, quieter this time. No answer. He opened his jaws, drawing in the frigid air. No strange scents.

Wary, Dawnheart returned to digging up his prey. The snap of a broken stick made Dawnheart look up again. This time he did see something. A dark shape passed through the trees a few tree-lengths away. It took a moment of squinting for Dawnheart to realize that it was a cat.

Dawnheart cocked his head. There was something _off_ about the shape. The outline was fuzzy and hard to look at. The air around it looked warped, like Dawnheart was looking through a sheet of water.

As the cat slunk silently through the snow its form flickered and streamed out in the breeze like smoke. Dawnheart blinked forcefully a few times. Were the shadows playing tricks on him? The loud alarm call of a bird made Dawnheart jump and look about. When he looked back to where he had seen the shadowy shape it was gone.

For a moment Dawnheart stood motionless and unsure what to do. The only sound was the blood pounding in his ears. He gave himself a shake. Sometimes a cat’s eyes could play tricks on them when the sun was reflecting off the snow.

He opened his mouth and drew in the breeze. An obvious, albeit somewhat muddled, CedarClan scent passed over his tongue. He relaxed. It was just a fellow Clanmate; nothing to worry about.

Dawnheart turned back to his prey and finished digging it up. He grasped it in his mouth and started his trek back to camp. As he walked his ruffled nerves and fur flattened.

The sudden sharp, metallic stench of blood made Dawnheart stop in his tracks. The fur on the back of his neck stood back up. Something was terribly wrong. The smell of blood was overwhelming. A normal hunt would never produce a scent this strong.

Dawnheart turned his head slowly, feeling sick.

In the shadow of a path-side boulder was the corpse of an enormous hare. The animal was twisted in a bloody heap. The flesh was torn and ripped, and dark blood seeped out of the chasms of flesh. Beady black eyes stared sightlessly up into the sky. Its mouth was twisted open in a silent scream of pain.

Bile rose in Dawnheart’s throat. The hare was big enough that it could’ve fed the elders and the queens by itself. The wretched thing would only feed scavengers now. What could have done something like this?

"What did you do?!"

Dawnheart whipped around, dropping his raven. Slatefoot was standing behind him, three mice at his paws and a disgusted look on his face. His green eyes were fixated on the hare’s corpse. He drew his lips back and wrinkled his nose.

"I-I didn't-". Dawnheart stammered.

Slatefoot pushed Dawnheart aside and stared down his muzzle at the fresh-kill. He stared at it for a heartbeat before rounding on Dawnheart. His neck fur rose, and his eyes flashed. Dawnheart took a step back.

"Leaf-bare is early and you're out here wasting prey?" Slatefoot spat.

"It wasn't me." Dawnheart said in a tiny voice. "I found it like this."

Slatefoot shoved his face close to Dawnheart's.

"Don't think Blizzardstar won't hear about this." The black and silver warrior hissed. He stalked past a stunned Dawnheart and snatched his mice off the snow. With a final dirty look, Slatefoot barged past his Clanmate and disappeared into the snowy undergrowth.

Dawnheart watched him go, numb.

. . .

Dawnheart stumbled through the fern tunnel, dragging his raven behind him. The camp was still bustling with activity. Cats were pushing clumps of snow to the edge of the clearing with their paws. Warriors swarmed over the dens, pulling tendrils of brambles and fern fronds through the patchy walls. An impressive pile of fresh-kill lay in a dip in the ground surrounded by a ring of snow.

Dawnheart flopped the raven on the top of the pile. He spat a stray feather onto the ground and gave himself a shake. He found Whiteshade patting a thick clay soil into the base of the warrior's den. Dawnheart walked over.

Whiteshade looked up as Dawnheart approached.

"Ah, you're back." Whiteshade said. His paws were muddy, and his chest fur was stained with brown. He stepped back from the den. "We need extra paws here. Jump in."

Dawnheart grabbed a mouthful of thick bracken and began weaving it in and out of the den walls. He lost himself in the work and hardly noticed when Whiteshade called for a halt. Dawnheart dropped his cold, muddy paws to the ground, feeling suddenly exhausted.

The CedarClan warriors around him began stretching and talking amongst themselves.

Blackmoth padded over to Dawnheart and purred. "You have bracken on your head."

Dawnheart twitched his ears in an attempt to dislodge the offending frond. Blackmoth leaned up and grasped it in her teeth. She spat it out and brushed Dawnheart's side with her tail.

"Let's get something to eat." She said.

Together they padded over to the fresh-kill pile. They waited their turn behind a crowd of hungry clamoring cats. When Dawnheart and Blackmoth finally reached the pile most of the best pieces had been taken.

They grabbed two slightly gritty mice from the edge of the pile, padded over to the Root-tree and sat among its twisting overhead roots. Dawnheart bent to take a bite of his mouse and saw his muddy paws. The brown reminded him of the hare's fur. The dead, massacred hare. He began vigorously cleaning his paws.

"How was hunting?" Blackmoth mewed through her mouthful of mouse.

"Surprisingly good!"

Dawnheart looked up to see Kestrelfeather and Runningriver approaching.

"Hi!" Blackmoth purred. She scooted herself over to make room for the warriors. They settled down and began chatting about hunting and den repairs. Dawnheart found it hard to join in. He found it hard to even eat. He couldn't get the stench of that rabbit's blood out of his head.

His thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of Falconstorm. The large warrior had approached the group and was talking to Kestrelfeather. The dark tabby's tail was twitching, and his amber eyes were anxious.

"Did you see Ferntail in the forest today?" Kestrelfeather aimed his question at Dawnheart.

Dawnheart shook his head, surprised. "Why?"

Falconstorm's tail lashed. "She and Cloudspots haven't come back yet."

"Brushfire sent them to Slaterocks." Runningriver offered. "Have you checked there?"

Falconstorm immediately turned and headed for the fern tunnel.

Kestrelfeather jumped up. "She's fine, Falconstorm!" he called.

Falconstorm ignored him.

Before the dark warrior could take any more than a dozen steps Ferntail and Cloudspots pushed their way through the camp entrance. Cloudspots was leaning heavily on his Clanmate. His gray and white sides were heaving.

Dawnheart felt a jolt of fear. Had Cloudspots been attacked?

"I'll get Plumleaf." Blackmoth said. She turned and sped across the clearing to the medicine den tunnel. Runningriver jumped to her paws and bounded over to Cloudspots who had been gently laid to the ground by Falconstorm and Ferntail. Dawnheart got up and followed her.

"Father!" Runningriver cried. She sniffed at the older warrior's flank. "What happened?"

Ferntail leaned on Falconstorm, breathing heavily. "He collapsed on the hunt." She gasped. "He couldn't breathe."

"You weren't attacked?" Dawnheart found himself asking.

Ferntail shook her head. Falconstorm groomed her ears, making soft murmuring sounds. Kestrelfeather carefully drew Runningriver back with his tail.

"Give him some air."

Dawnheart backed away, relief washing over him. For a moment he had been terrified that whatever had killed the hare had gotten to one of his Clanmates. Shame pricked at his ears. He should’ve told somecat about what he had found.

Plumleaf and Petalpaw rushed past almost knocking him off his paws. He watched, dazed, as Plumleaf shoved the crowd of warriors out of the way to get to Cloudspots' side. He took a few more steps back and collided with something directly behind him. He jumped and spun, tail bristling.

It was just Frayclaw. Dawnheart took a deep breath to slow his heart. Frayclaw's eyes widened and his ears flattened.

He looked Dawnheart up and down. "Are you okay?"

Dawnheart looked into warm gray eyes. He almost spilled everything out then and there. The shadow, the dead hare, Slatefoot. But for some reason he didn't. He clamped his jaws shut.

"I'm just nauseated." He finally said.

"Do you need Plumleaf?" Frayclaw held Dawnheart's gaze.

"No." Dawnheart said.

Frayclaw obviously knew something was wrong, but he didn't press the matter. Instead, he nodded towards the warrior's den. He tilted his head, a question in his eyes.

Dawnheart sighed. "Okay."

Frayclaw stepped back and let Dawnheart pad past him. Frayclaw curled his tail around his denmate's shoulders and led him to the new, reinforced warrior's den.

The den was a hollowed-out area underneath the roots of a cedar. The warriors had spent the day packing mud and bracken into the gaps between the roots, making it water-tight. As Dawnheart stepped inside he was surprised to find that it was warm. There were a few sleeping forms in the scattered nests, heating the air with their breath.

Dawnheart felt his eyes droop. The warmth of the den made his tiredness deepen. He longed to curl up in his nest and sleep. He picked his way through the mossy nests until he found his near the back where new warriors slept. Frayclaw's sat beside.

Dawnheart settled down in the moss and draped his tail over his nose. He felt Frayclaw sit next to him. The gray warrior began to groom Dawnheart with soft, even strokes of his tongue. Dawnheart sighed again and closed his eyes.

"Dawnheart?" A deep voice made Dawnheart open his eyes. Whiteshade was at the den's entrance, peeking in.

Frayclaw stiffened and curled his tail around Dawnheart’s back. "He's tired."

"Blizzardstar needs to see him." Whiteshade said.

Frayclaw opened his jaws to reply, but Dawnheart raised his tail. "It's okay."

Frayclaw just nodded. Dawnheart heaved himself out of his nest and followed Whiteshade out of the den. Whiteshade waited just long enough to make sure Dawnheart was following him before he turned and walked away.

He led Dawnheart a few fox-lengths to the left of the warrior's den to the fern thicket where Blizzardstar's hollow log den was half hidden in the fronds. Whiteshade stood outside the open end and gestured with his tail for Dawnheart to enter. Dawnheart ducked his head and entered.

The log was brighter inside than he expected. There were a few holes in the ceiling letting the evening light in. Mosses hung from the walls and ferns poked in the several gaping holes in the floor. Blizzardstar sat at the far end of the den, a half-eaten pigeon at his paws. His eyes were half closed, like he was deep in thought. Dawnheart hesitated.

"Blizzardstar?" He said quietly. Blizzardstar opened his dark blue eyes and studied the warrior for a moment. Dawnheart wanted to shrink under his leader's scrutiny.

"How was hunting today?" Blizzardstar finally said.

Dawnheart was surprised. "Better than we expected."

"Good."

There was another silence. Then Blizzardstar spoke again. "Slatefoot told me something quite disturbing."

Dawnheart's stomach lurched. "Blizzardstar I-"

"I could not believe that my newest warrior would slaughter and destroy a perfectly good piece of fresh-kill." Blizzardstar interrupted Dawnheart's plea. "But there had to be some truth to what Slatefoot said."

"I found it like that." Dawnheart said. He stared at Blizzardstar. "I promise."

Blizzardstar held his gaze, searching.

"I believe you." He said after a moment. "But this is troubling. Go report exactly what you saw to Whiteshade. You are dismissed."

Dawnheart dipped his head.

"Thank you Blizzardstar." He began to back out of the den.

Whiteshade was waiting for him when he emerged. Dawnheart did as Blizzardstar ordered and told Whiteshade about the destroyed hare. He left out the shadowy cat. There was no need to tell the deputy about something as silly as Dawnheart’s eyes playing tricks on him.

Whiteshade nodded, looking pensive.

"This is strange." He admitted. "I'll have to warn the patrols to keep an eye out."

He dismissed Dawnheart with a flick of his tail. Dawnheart dipped his head and went back to the warrior's den. He curled up next to Frayclaw without a word. His mind was clouded. All he could see was the dead hare, its eyes staring into nothing.

Frayclaw began his grooming again. The rhythm of his tongue made Dawnheart's mind begin to clear. The familiar, warm scents of the warrior's den soothed him.

The Clan was on alert now. There was nothing to fear. Not with Frayclaw here curled near him, his deep purr rumbling through Dawnheart's pelt.

Nothing to fear.


	13. Ice

Sunlight streamed into Heronpaw’s face, waking him. He laid still for a while, letting the rays warm his fur. He knew somewhere in the back of his mind that this wasn’t right. The sun had set that night on a forest suffocating under an early leaf-bare, but the warm sunshine felt so good. He didn’t want this to be a dream.

He breathed in, tasting the comforting scents of new growth and warm dirt. He let the smells soothe him. Then a sickly sweet, familiar scent drifted over his tongue and a stab of dread chased away his content. So she had taken to visiting his dreams had she? His whiskers twitched with apprehension and his whole body stiffened. All dregs of sleep left his senses, leaving him on high alert. Maybe she would speak this time. He held his breath and waited. Nothing.

Heronpaw sighed. As always, she was unwilling or unable to communicate. He opened his eyes and found himself looking at an empty, dreamlike den. Streams of sunlight filtered through the tiny holes in the den ceiling and dappled the nest-strewn ground.

Heronpaw gave himself a mental shake and rose to his paws. He took a deep breath. A cold pricking sensation shot through his tail and up his spine. He shivered involuntarily. He didn’t want to turn around. Her presence made him uneasy at best, but there was something about her eyes that made Heronpaw feel sorrowful as well as afraid.

After another moment or two, he brought himself to turn around. As he did, the landscape around him dramatically changed. Instead of a warm, springy den, Heronpaw now found himself in a dark, freezing snowscape. The change was so jarring that Heronpaw’s whole pelt stood on end in shock. He whipped back around, hoping to return to the warm den, but all he could see was endless snow-covered forest.

The silence that came with the snow burned his ears. He flattened them against his head and turned back around. A slight movement in the darkness ahead of him caught his eye. He squinted, trying to get a better look.

The white she-cat was slowly making her way through the snowy trees towards Heronpaw. She blended almost perfectly with the snow around her, making it nearly impossible to discern her shape from her surroundings. As she came closer Heronpaw sank to a crouch, shivering violently.

He watched the she-cat’s movements closely. Something seemed off about them. All the times he had seen her before, she had carried herself with an almost ethereal presence. She usually seemed to skim the ground with her paws rather than touching it directly. This time was different. She had her head down and ears back. Her movements were small and jerky. He watched as she came to a halt completely and looked around. She looked as though she was afraid of being seen.

Heronpaw opened his jaws to call out, but a flicker of movement in the corner of his vision distracted him. A dark shape was making its way through the shadowy tree-line. After a moment of inspection, Heronpaw concluded that it was another cat, one he had never seen before. The cat was huge. Its massive shoulders were lifted in a stalking position. Every heartbeat or so the cat moved forward. There was a deadly purpose in its steps, as though it was stalking a juicy mouse.

It took a moment before Heronpaw realized what the cat was doing.

Heronpaw looked back and forth between the two cats, panic rising in his chest. The she-cat seemed to have no idea that she was being hunted. She continued to struggle through the snow, unaware that her pursuer was closing in rapidly. Heronpaw jumped to his paws and tried to yowl a warning. The sound seemed to halt halfway up his throat. He choked silently on the words.

Through streaming eyes Heronpaw tried to locate the cats again. He caught sight of the massive tom closing in on his target. Before Heronpaw could move another muscle, the two cats disappeared behind a curtain of white. In just moments the night had gone from clear and still to a swirling mass of howling wind and snow.

Shaking his head free of the sudden bewilderment, Heronpaw forced his half-frozen legs to move. He was determined to get to the white cat in time. He tried again to yowl, but there seemed to be an invisible pelt blocking his muzzle. Instead he pushed forward in the direction he knew the she-cat had gone. His eyes strained to see through the swirling snow.

As suddenly as it had come, the wind died. In one final gust, the gale swept all of the excess snow from the air. Heronpaw shook his head and blinked rapidly in order to clear his vision.

The landscape had changed again. This time Heronpaw found himself on the edge of a slick gray rock looking out over a frozen lake.

_Am I on the Greatrocks?_

His paws scrabbled on the icy surface as he tried to back away from the sharp drop off. After only moving a few pawsteps, a shiver shot up Heronpaw’s spine. He flattened his ears and slowly turned to face the daunting presence.

Before the shadowy figure could come into relief, a sudden movement to the left caught Heronpaw’s attention. Before he could react or even process what was happening, a massive force slammed into Heronpaw’s shoulder, knocking him completely off his paws. With a strangled yowl Heronpaw toppled off the side of the sharp outcrop and over the sheer edge.

Time seemed to slow down for Heronpaw as he fell. His heart wasn’t beating and his lungs were stuck in a stinging inhale. His flailing form twisted in mid-air. The edge of the rock came into view as he tried desperately to figure out which way was up. Heronpaw found himself staring into the face of a huge black tom who was standing on the rock and looking down. Heronpaw’s eyes widened and icy claws of panic gripped his stomach.

Heronpaw continued to fall backward towards the frozen lake’s surface. His heart pounded once-twice-three times before he felt his arched spine smash into the black ice. It was only a moment before the surface gave way and Heronpaw plunged into the depths.

Numbness overtook Heronpaw’s body almost instantly. The shattering pain that had shot through him on impact was gone, replaced now with an odd spreading warmth. As he sank, Heronpaw kept his eyes directed skyward. The water around him was clouding with red. He flailed his paws as a final resort, not really thinking it would do anything. In fact, Heronpaw’s foggy brain was slowly becoming incapable of any thought at all. His eyelids grew heavy.

The darkness behind Heronpaw’s eyelids was absolute. The feeling was actually quite pleasant. A sudden light stung at his eyes. He tried to turn his head away from the unexpected brightness but found that he could no longer move his body. The only thing he seemed to be able to move were his eyes. He slowly opened them.

The white she-cat greeted his gaze. Finally she had shown herself. A strange bright light was emanating from her flowing pelt. Heronpaw held eye contact with her for a few heartbeats. Her intense stare was overflowing with fear, guilt, and despair. Heronpaw felt his own heart twisting with pain and sorrow that magnified with each passing moment. His body began to shake and it became increasingly difficult to keep looking the she-cat in the eye. Before the waves of emotion became too much, Heronpaw squeezed his eyes shut.

As soon as he did so, he felt a lurch in his belly. Disoriented, Heronpaw felt as if he had been flipped around. He realized that he wasn’t surrounded by water anymore, and that his paws were touching something very cold. He dared to open his eyes.

He was no longer under the water with the white cat. Instead, he was standing on the ice staring down at her terrified face underneath the frozen sheet. She was scrabbling at the underside of her watery prison with such desperation that her claws began to leave clouds of blood in the water.

Heronpaw tried to make his muscles move, tried to smash at the ice with his paws in order to free her, but his legs seemed to be frozen in place. Instead of the horrified yowl that his body wanted to produce, a different sound came from his gaping jaw. A sound he had not put there.

“ _This is how traitors die.”_

Heronpaw’s head reeled. The roughness of the voice was not his own. The sneer that contorted his face was not his doing. His eyes locked with the white she-cat under the ice. Her face was hauntingly calm. Her eyes were no longer pools of emotion. They were blank.

A tiny stream of bubbles escaped the white cat’s mouth. Her white fur flowed out around her, giving her form a fuzzy edge. She began to sink, falling further and further from Heronpaw’s vision. Finally she faded completely into the darkness.

The abyss that had consumed her pulsed for a moment before spreading rapidly to cover Heronpaw’s vision. The darkness came with a deafening silence. Heronpaw hung, robbed of his senses.

A low moan of grief broke the silence and echoed around the empty space. A sudden stab of icy despair threatened to choke him. The moan grew louder and louder until it was a tempest of agony ringing in Heronpaw’s ears.

Finally able to move again, Heronpaw sank to his belly and clamped his forepaws over his ears. He screamed into the storm, his own wail lost in the impossible, ear-splitting chaos.

_Make it stop! StarClan, make it stop!_


	14. Distraction

“Watch where you’re putting your claws!”

Heronpaw jumped back from Hollowtree’s pelt as the old cat yowled in indignation.

“Sorry!” Heronpaw gasped. He shook himself mentally.

He wasn’t at the lake. He wasn’t watching the white she-cat drown. He was here in the elder’s den doing tick duty, just as he had been for the past two days.

Heronpaw shook his head, trying to dispel the horrible memory of his dream. Dismayed, he noticed a bead of scarlet blood welling up between Hollowtree’s striped shoulders.

“I’m sorry.” Heronpaw mumbled again, looking down at his paws in shame. Hollowtree just grumbled and shuffled away from the apprentice. The old tabby flopped down next to Foxtail and turned to lick the puncture.

“I can get my own ticks.” He growled.

Heronpaw shuffled his feet awkwardly.

“I have some ticks young’un.” Beepelt said in a croaking voice from his nest in the corner. The black and gray elder was waving his tail at Heronpaw. Heronpaw blinked gratefully at Beepelt and padded over.

“Watch out for his claws.” Foxtail sniffed. “He’s being careless.”

Heronpaw glanced at the grumpy she-cat and flattened his ears in shame. The elder was right. Heronpaw was far too distracted to be poking around the thin pelts of old cats with his claws out.

Heronpaw’s mind was clouded by the dream. He felt cold and fearful at every moment. The anger and turmoil that had been his constant companion for the past few days was gone, replaced instead by a creeping sense of dread and hopelessness.

“Thorn in your belly, boy?” Beepelt said quietly as Heronpaw began searching the elder’s back for parasites. Heronpaw’s eyes met Beepelt’s earnest amber gaze and felt himself relax a little. Beepelt was always the most reasonable elder. He understood the apprentices and enjoyed their company. With a stab of guilt Heronpaw realized that he hadn’t been very good company for the old cat lately.

Heronpaw dropped his gaze, shrugged, and continued pawing through Beepelt’s shoulder fur.

“You used to be so cheerful when you came to see us.” Beepelt continued. “You’ve been as grumpy as Foxtail lately.”

Heronpaw found a tick and crunched it between his teeth. The taste was foul. He would rather taste the tick than feel the growing shame beneath his pelt.

Beepelt sighed in relief.

“He’s an apprentice.” Foxtail said from her nest. She was cleaning her bushy tail. “They’re always moody.”

Beepelt flicked a black ear but ignored her.

“I know apprenticeship is hard, but you’re a good and strong cat. You’ll be fine.” Beepelt said in a low voice so only Heronpaw could hear.

Heronpaw felt a rush of affection for the old cat. The elder had often visited the nursery when Heronpaw and his brothers were kits. He had brought mousetails and moss balls and told them stories. Even though he wasn’t direct kin, Beepelt had always made an effort to make Heronpaw feel better. Another stab of guilt reminded Heronpaw that he had never kept his promise to share battle stories with the striped tom.

Trying to distract himself, Heronpaw redoubled his search. He found another tick on Beepelt’s spine and bent to crunch the fat little body between his teeth. Before he could do away with the pest, Beepelt’s flank began to spasm as the old cat fell into a sudden and violent coughing fit. Heronpaw jumped back and flattened his ears.

Beepelt coughed for a few heartbeats. It was a deep, hacking cough that made Heronpaw’s blood run cold. Cats who coughed like that could have whitecough, a disease brought on by the cold of leaf-bare. Without proper treatment whitecough could develop into deadly greencough. Heronpaw scrambled to his feet.

“Shall I fetch Plumleaf?” he said as soon as Beepelt’s fit subsided. Foxtail opened her mouth to speak, but Beepelt interrupted her.

“No, no. I’m fine.” He spluttered. His mew was weak and wheezy. His amber eyes streamed and his nose glistened with wetness. Heronpaw took an involuntary step back. He glanced at the other elders. Hollowtree was watching his denmate with narrowed eyes and Foxtail’s whiskers were twitching anxiously. Heronpaw caught the old she-cat’s eye and she gave him a tiny nod.

“I need mousebile for that stubborn tick.” Heronpaw said quickly. “I’ll be right back.”

Before Beepelt could argue, Heronpaw turned and dashed out of the den. The cold morning air shocked him as he left the relative warmth of the elder’s hollow. He shivered and fluffed out his pelt. Leaf bare had come early and it was showing no signs of retreating. That made Beepelt’s apparent sickness all the worse.

He hurried across the frozen ground to the medicine den entrance. There were cats milling around but no one stopped to speak. They kept their heads low and pelts fluffed out against the chill.

Heronpaw slowed as he reached the tunnel. The ferns that usually covered the cleft in the rock had withered from the cold and he could see past them into the medicine clearing. He was surprised to see that there were a few cats in the nests lining the area.

Before Heronpaw could go further, Petalpaw appeared at the other end of the entrance. She looked momentarily startled before shoving Heronpaw back the way he’d come.

“Hey!” Heronpaw said, backing up quickly. “I need-“

“No one is allowed in there.” Petalpaw interrupted.

Heronpaw tilted his head. “Why?” 

Petalpaw looked around as if she were making sure they were alone. No cat was near enough to hear, so Petalpaw leaned in close.

“Whitecough. I was on my way to tell Blizzardstar.” She whispered in his ear.

Heronpaw’s stomach lurched. He craned his neck, trying to see over Petalpaw’s head. She thwarted his efforts by straightening up and blocking his view.

“I’ll help you after I report to Blizzardstar.” She said. She turned to go.

“Wait!” Heronpaw hissed quietly. Petalpaw stopped.

“I think Beepelt is sick.” Heronpaw said.

Petalpaw’s green eyes grew large with despair. Plumleaf was hoping it didn’t get to the elders.” She said, shaking her head. “I’ll check on Beepelt when I’ve spoken to Blizzardstar.”

Without another word Petalpaw dashed away. Heronpaw watched her go, feeling sick. The cold in the clearing felt like that of his dream. He couldn’t help but wonder what Petalpaw would make of it. This dream hadn’t been like others he’d had. He could remember every detail perfectly. Every miniscule, horrifying detail.

He shivered.

“Heronpaw! Are you finished?” Kestrelfeather’s call made Heronpaw jump. His mentor was standing at the edge of the fresh-kill pile. The warrior’s tail was twitching and he churned his paws into the icy dirt. Heronpaw flinched under Kestrelfeather’s annoyed expression.

“I’m waiting for some mousebile.” Heronpaw called back. Kestrelfeather lashed his tail once.

“Come find me when you’re done then.” The auburn warrior stalked away. Heronpaw’s pelt pricked with irritation. They could be hunting for the Clan if Kestrelfeather hadn’t punished Heronpaw for no reason. He began pacing to pass the time and to work off his annoyance.

It wasn’t long before Petalpaw emerged from Blizzardstar’s den and bounded back to Heronpaw’s side.

She nodded to Heronpaw. “Take me to Beepelt.”

Heronpaw led her to the elder’s hollow. He stayed outside as Petalpaw ducked under the stone overhang and slipped into the small, dimly lit space. To Heronpaw’s dismay he could hear Beepelt coughing again.

He heard Petalpaw’s soft murmurs and Beepelt’s frustrated croaks. Eventually Beepelt’s striped nose poked out of the den and he shuffled out into the cold, grumbling all the way. Petalpaw emerged after him and led the elder to the medicine tunnel. Heronpaw watched them go. A ball of anxiety had formed in his chest.

“Heronpaw!”

Kestrelfeather’s annoyed yowl broke through Heronpaw’s anxious thoughts. He turned and trudged across the clearing to where his mentor was waiting.

. . .

It took less than a quarter moon for three sick cats to become four, then five. Beepelt and four warriors were now nesting in Plumleaf’s sheltered clearing. Every day Heronpaw awoke fearing that they would get the news that the whitecough had worsened into greencough. So far that hadn’t happened, thank StarClan.

Instead, Heronpaw’s nightmare had plagued him every night. He couldn’t remember it in as much detail anymore, but he always bolted awake in the middle of the night convinced that he was drowning in ice-cold water. He convinced himself it was the stress of early leaf-bare and whitecough and tried not to put any more thought into it.

Because of the sickness the apprentices were being worked hard. Kestrelfeather had even ended Heronpaw’s punishment early so they would have more time for hunting and patrolling the WillowClan border. The work helped keep Heronpaw’s mind off of his recurring dream.

That morning they had all been called to the training hollow just downhill from camp.

“Today you will be hunting in pairs.” Kestrelfeather was saying to the gathered apprentices. “We want you to focus on filling the fresh-kill stores.”

Next to Heronpaw, Specklepaw raised her tail. It was shaking with either excitement or nerves; he couldn’t tell which.

“What are the fresh-kill stores?” she squeaked. “Also there are five of us so-“

“The fresh-kill stores,” Swiftwing interrupted, “are holes we have dug in the ground and lined with layers of leaves and snow. Prey stored in them keeps for almost a moon if it stays cold.”

Specklepaw’s eyes grew round with fascination. She bounced up and down on her toes.

On Heronpaw’s other side Crowpaw tried to catch his brother’s eye. Heronpaw ignored him. He didn’t feel like teasing Specklepaw today. He had slept even worse than usual the night before.

“Hawkpaw and Specklepaw, you’ll hunt down by the lake-shore.” Kestrelfeather instructed.

Specklepaw bounced harder. Heronpaw side-stepped away so she didn’t tread on him in her fervor. Hawkpaw looked distinctly disappointed by the matchup.

“Heronpaw and Morningpaw, you can take the Fallen Cedar. Crowpaw, you’ll be with Swiftwing.” Kestrelfeather said.

Crowpaw cast Heronpaw another glance before padding away to join the black and white warrior. Heronpaw grunted. He didn’t need Crowpaw to worry about him.

Morningpaw appeared at Heronpaw’s side. “Ready to go?” she said briskly.

Heronpaw looked up at her and caught sight of Hawkpaw’s supremely annoyed face over her shoulder. The tabby was staring openly at Heronpaw and Morningpaw with a glint of jealousy in his gray eyes. Specklepaw was circling him and chattering. That did manage to lighten Heronpaw’s heart a bit.

“Yeah.” He said to Morningpaw. He stood up and together they headed out into the forest.

The day was cold and clear. Many of the ferns and bushes that had been alive just a quarter-moon ago were now dead and buried under a layer of disturbed and gritty snow. The forest was quiet. All Heronpaw could hear was the crunch of his and Morningpaw’s steps and the sounds of their breath.

They traveled at a brisk pace in an attempt to warm their muscles. Heronpaw let his mind wander as they trotted through the endless trunks of the forest. He thought of the drowning she-cat, the anguished cries that were not his own, and freezing, suffocating water. He shook himself. He didn’t have time to worry about this. He-

Heronpaw almost ran straight into Morningpaw’s backside. She had stopped. Heronpaw stumbled to the side and hissed. He opened his jaws, ready to rebuke his denmate, when he caught a whiff of rabbit-scent. He froze.

Morningpaw cast him a sideways glance and angled her ears towards a small hillock between two pine trees. Heronpaw nodded at her and then towards the hill. Morningpaw twitched her whiskers and sank into a perfect rabbit-stalking crouch.

Heronpaw stayed back and watched Morningpaw slide over the snow. Her white belly fur blended perfectly with her surroundings and even her ginger and black patches could pass for shadows and wood. They were even upwind. It would be hard for her to miss this catch. Still, Heronpaw’s heart pounded in his ears.

Morningpaw snuck behind a snow-capped rock and waited. After what felt like moons a quivering gray nose poked out from behind the hillock. The rabbit’s whiskers trembled in the breeze. It took another step out into the open. Morningpaw pounced.

It was over in a heartbeat. Morningpaw’s aim had been true and the rabbit now lay dead at her paws. Heronpaw straightened up and padded over.

“Good catch.” He noted.

Morningpaw shrugged. “It was begging to be caught.” Her green eyes were dull as she looked down at the animal.

Heronpaw sniffed. “Makes you wonder how any of them survive at all.”

Morningpaw didn’t reply.

Feeling awkward, Heronpaw shuffled his paws. “Want me to bury it?”

“Rabbit is Cloudspots’ favorite.” Morningpaw said suddenly. Her mew quivered and her tail drooped.

Heronpaw winced internally. Cloudspots had been the first to fall ill on the day of the early snowfall. He hadn’t considered that Morningpaw would be worried for her mentor until now.

“You can take it to him.” Heronpaw said with a forced purr. He touched the tip of his tail to her side. “It’ll help him get well.”

Morningpaw shook herself and raised her head. Her eyes sparkled with resolve. “You’re right. Moping won’t help him, prey will. Come on, let’s hunt.”

Emboldened by Morningpaw’s strong will, Heronpaw worked hard the rest of the day. Their efforts were not well rewarded, however. The Fallen Tree yielded none of its usual bounty of prey. The stench of wolverine made sure of that. They did manage to catch a mouse on the way back to camp, but still Heronpaw’s mood soured with every step.

Kestrelfeather didn’t bother hiding his disappointment when Heronpaw dropped his meager catch onto the pile. Even when he and Morningpaw explained that a wolverine had scared away all the prey the auburn warrior wasn’t satisfied.

Morningpaw was able to take her rabbit to Cloudspots though. That at least had gone to plan. Heronpaw watched as she passed the prey to Petalpaw and had to stand, helpless, just outside the medicine clearing. Creeping shame pricked at Heronpaw’s ears. The cats he loved most were healthy. Morningpaw had much more to worry about than he did.

Heronpaw went to his nest that night feeling worse than he had all day.


	15. Sickness

Heronpaw held his head high as he entered camp the next day. A fat squirrel hung from his mouth, its fluffy tail dragging on the ground. He had caught the creature as it tried to flee up a tree trunk. A mighty leap and good aim had brought the prey down. Kestrelfeather had been impressed.

“Heronpaw! Nice catch!” Dawnheart called. The cream colored warrior was sharing a bird with Frayclaw beside the elder’s den. Heronpaw waved his tail at them. Frayclaw nodded at the apprentice’s squirrel. Heronpaw’s heart lifted higher.

He had actually tried today. Seeing Morningpaw suffer had convinced him that he needed to change his attitude. He had been a model apprentice; following orders, being proactive, and leaving his sour feelings behind. If Kestrelfeather was still annoyed with his apprentice it didn’t show today. They had worked together and brought home a respectful amount of prey.

Together mentor and apprentice padded up to the fresh-kill pile to deposit their offering. Several cats murmured with approval as Heronpaw passed. There would be prey for the stores today.

Heronpaw’s mouth watered as he dropped the warm squirrel at the edge of the pile. Kestrelfeather looked at him. His green eyes were much softer than they had been the past quarter-moon.

“Take these to the queens and Plumleaf.” The auburn warrior said, gesturing to the three mice they had caught. “Then you can take that squirrel and eat.”

Heronpaw’s ears perked up.

“Thanks Kestrelfeather.”

“You did well today.” Kestrelfeather purred. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

The warrior pulled a shrew from the pile and padded off to where Runningriver was lounging near the warrior’s den. Heronpaw watched his mentor approach the beautiful silver tabby and gently touch noses with her. Runningriver’s blue eyes glowed as she looked at Kestrelfeather and the two sat close together, their pelts brushing.

Heronpaw shivered. Would a she-cat look at _him_ like that one day? His thoughts flew to Petalpaw and her soft fur and kind eyes. He shook himself inwardly. Never Petalpaw. She was a medicine cat apprentice!

Heronpaw picked up the mice and made his way to the nursery. He stopped outside the entrance and announced himself.

“It’s Heronpaw. I’ve brought mice.”

“Come in!” A soft voice answered. Heronpaw squeezed past the thick outer layers of bracken and into the warm den. Honeyleaf was the only queen there. Her kits, Cyotekit and Wolfkit, were wrestling in a corner. Heronpaw was surprised to see three tiny bundles at the curve of Honeyleaf’s belly.

“Where’s Quailstep?” He asked, setting down two of the mice.

Honeyleaf reached over and dragged one towards her. “She needed some herbs for her cough.” The queen mewed brightly. Her twitching tail betrayed her nerves. “She’ll be back in no time.”

Heronpaw’s belly lurched. Quailstep was coughing? She couldn’t be ill. She had these tiny kits to feed. He watched the little things wriggle at Honeyleaf’s flank. One, a ginger she-cat like her father, gave a piteous wail and scrabbled at the queen’s side.

Honeyleaf saw Heronpaw staring and she purred.

“Would you like to meet them?” she asked. Heronpaw nodded.

“The loud one is Waspkit.” Honeyleaf said fondly. “She’s always letting us know when she’s grumpy.” The cream she-cat rested her tail on the second kit, a fluffy gray she-cat with white spots. “This is Fawnkit.” Honeyleaf brushed her tail over the last kit, a spotted tabby tom. “And this is Lynxkit.”

“They’re so small.” Heronpaw breathed. He leaned in and looked at the precious kits. The future of CedarClan lay at his paws. He shivered again. Plumleaf would keep their mother healthy. He had to believe that.

Honeyleaf thanked him and with a polite nod, Heronpaw backed out of the nursery. He took the remaining mouse around the edge of the clearing to the medicine clearing. He set the mouse down and called out softly.

After a moment Petalpaw emerged from behind the rocks. Her eyes grew round at the sight of the mouse. She swiped her tongue around her jaws

“Is that for us?” she said.

Heronpaw purred and nodded. “How’s Cloudspots?” he added.

Petalpaw’s hunger melted away and she flattened her ears in frustration. “He’s not getting any better or worse.” She sighed. “It has to be so hard for Morningpaw.”

“She’s handling it well.” Heronpaw reassured her.

Petalpaw rolled her eyes. “Of course. It’s Morningpaw.”

Heronpaw purred. He looked into Petalpaw’s eyes and felt his worry begin to melt away. If she wasn’t afraid then he shouldn’t be. A question gnawed at the back of his mind. He thought of the kits in the nursery and all that they represented.

“I have something I want to ask you.” He blurted out.

Petalpaw looked at him and tilted her head. “Okay.” She said in a leading tone.

Heronpaw shook his head. “Not here. Will you meet me at sunset by the entrance?”

Petalpaw’s eyes grew round. She hesitated for a heartbeat, then nodded.

“Thank you.” Heronpaw said. Relief washed over him. Maybe now he could get some answers.

The two apprentices parted ways. Heronpaw made his way back to the fresh-kill pile. His squirrel still lay untouched. Heronpaw grabbed it and dragged it to his eating spot beside the apprentice’s den. He sat at the base of the stone that apprentices often used as a sunning spot and began to eat.

The squirrel was big. Heronpaw only managed half of it before feeling full. He pushed the prey aside and began washing his paws and muzzle. It wasn’t long before Crowpaw and Talonscore entered the camp. Both were carrying birds. Heronpaw caught Crowpaw’s attention as his brother added his catch to the pile. Crowpaw spotted the squirrel and bounded over.

“Did you catch that?” The black apprentice’s blue eyes glowed with hunger at the sight of the plump animal.

Heronpaw nodded and gestured with his tail. “You can have the rest. I’m full.”

Crowpaw purred appreciatively and sat down to tuck into his meal.

The brothers sat in relative silence for a while. Once Crowpaw was finished eating the two apprentices shared tongues in the fading evening light. A light snow began to fall by the time the sun had dipped below the tree line.

As the sun began to set, Heronpaw heard a commotion just outside of the camp entrance. He pricked his ears and raised his head off of his paws. Crowpaw did the same beside him as did other lounging warriors around the clearing.

After a moment, Hawkpaw burst through the camp entrance. His tail was bushed out and his eyes were wild. He skidded to a halt a few fox-lengths into camp and let out a panicked howl. “Plumleaf!”

Heronpaw jumped to his feet but Crowpaw was faster. He darted away to fetch the medicine cat. Heronpaw hurried over to Hawkpaw instead.

Whiteshade got to the frantic apprentice first. “What happened?” the deputy demanded.

Hawkpaw opened his mouth to respond but was interrupted by more cats coming through the entrance.

Swiftwing came through first. He was supporting Stonepelt, Specklepaw’s mentor, with his shoulder. The gray warrior was wheezing audibly. Just behind them came Falconstorm and Morningpaw. The calico she-cat was leaning heavily on the dark tabby’s side. Her eyes and nose were streaming and her breath was as labored as Stonepelt’s. Specklepaw trailed after the others. Her blue eyes were stretched wide with fear.

A stone dropped into Heronpaw’s belly. Two more sick cats? He watched, rooted to the spot, as Swiftwing and Falconstorm escorted their sick clanmates to where Plumleaf and Petalpaw had emerged from the medicine den.

Heronpaw’s heart twisted as Petalpaw caught sight of her sister. The tabby she-cat let out a distressed wail and hurried forward to help steady Morningpaw. Heronpaw’s stomach lurched as he imagined how it would feel if his own brothers fell ill.

Heronpaw could see his own fear reflected in his clanmates’ eyes. They stood awkwardly on the edge of the clearing, sharing uncertain glances with one another. Many turned their eyes to Blizzardstar who, alongside his mate Sweetsorrel, had come out of his den to see what was happening. The expectant gazes of the clan turned to apprehension as their leader seemed to shrink at the sight of his daughters struggling across the clearing.

Sweetsorrel cried out and dashed over to her daughters. Shadowgrove intercepted the distraught queen and led her away.

Whiteshade whispered something into Blizzardstar’s ear. Blizzardstar nodded and retreated back into his den. The deputy stepped forward and addressed the cats in the clearing with a loud voice.

“Go back to your dens. Let Plumleaf work.”

Heronpaw watched as his clanmates obeyed without question. Ferntail greeted Falconstorm with a nervous lick on the cheek at the entrance to the warrior’s den. Blackmoth hurried forward and led a dazed Specklepaw back to the apprentice’s den. Dawnheart and Frayclaw exchanged glances and did as Whiteshade said, though hesitantly.

“She just collapsed on patrol.” Hawkpaw whispered.

Heronpaw turned and saw that his brother was staring after Morningpaw with unblinking eyes. Hawkpaw gripped the cold ground with his claws.

“I couldn’t help her.” He said through gritted teeth.

Heronpaw didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know how to ease Hawkpaw’s fears when he himself had so many.

Hawkpaw shook his head and made his way toward the apprentice’s den. His tail dragged in the dirt and snow.

Heronpaw watched him go, numb. Once the sick cats had disappeared into the medicine den the few cats still in the clearing retreated into their dens. Heronpaw walked back to his nest on unfeeling paws. He plopped down next to Crowpaw at the mouth of the den. They sat in silence until the colors of dusk had faded and nothing remained but the brightness of the stars.

Heronpaw looked at the sky. It was just after sunset. Would Petalpaw still want to meet? He might as well try. Perhaps she needed comfort. He got to his paws as casually as he could manage.

“I think I’m going to go for a walk.” He said, stretching.

Crowpaw looked up and tilted his head. “Okay.” He said after a pause.

Heronpaw waved his tail, trying to look normal. He padded across the clearing and to the camp entrance. He slipped through the tunnel, relieved to find that the night guard had yet to be posted. He didn’t want anycat becoming suspicious.

He stopped and gave the frozen air a sniff. No sign of Petalpaw’s herb-laden scent. He padded a few tail-lengths away from the entrance and sat down between some ferns to wait. A few heartbeats passed before Heronpaw heard rustling. His ears perked up as Petalpaw emerged from the tunnel. She was carrying a leaf wrap and her ears were twitching nervously.

“Are you okay?” Heronpaw asked as the tabby she-cat drew near. She shook her head and gestured further into the forest. Heronpaw followed her lead.

She led him away from the camp and, Heronpaw assumed, prying eyes and ears. They headed down towards the stream for a bit before Petalpaw veered to the left into a clump of brambles. Heronpaw faltered, wincing. He was about to call out and ask if she was okay when he noticed that she had seemingly disappeared. He stepped back, confused.

Petalpaw’s tabby head poked out of the brambles a moment later.

“Come in.” She said. She pulled her head back and vanished again. Heronpaw took a tentative step forward. As he got closer he realized that there was a well-hidden hole in the brambles just large enough for a cat to slip into. Heronpaw squeezed into the hole, wincing as the thorns scraped his shoulders.

Beyond the thorns was a small hollow against the base of a tree. The brambles formed a cocoon around the hollow, blocking out the chill wind and gray sky. The ground was clear of snow here and the air was slightly warmer. Bunches of green plants still grew, safe from frost and snow. Heronpaw marveled.

“What is this place?” He said reverently.

Petalpaw looked up from where she was going through the herbs in her leaf wrap.

“It’s Plumleaf’s herb place.” She said. “Some of the more resilient herbs can grow here even in leaf-bare.” She returned to sorting herbs.

“What are those for?” Heronpaw asked. Petalpaw didn’t reply right away. She finished separating the herbs into two piles before sighing and looking up to meet Heronpaw’s gaze.

The close quarters made Heronpaw’s pelt shiver. Petalpaw was so close, her sweet scent making Heronpaw feel dizzy. She gazed at him with beautiful green eyes.

“Petalpaw…”

“I need to go to the Moontree.” Petalpaw said suddenly.

Heronpaw blinked. “Why?”

“Morningpaw is sick.” Petalpaw dropped her gaze to her paws. Her voice shook. “Morningpaw is sick and there’s nothing I can do for her!” she repeated in a wail.

“Surely Plumleaf can cure whitecough.” Heronpaw said. He moved forward and pressed his flank to Petalpaw’s. Petalpaw shook her head. Her green eyes shone with despair.

“Not without catmint. It’s the only cure, and it all died in the sudden frost.” She said.

Heronpaw’s belly twisted with shock. He looked at the sparse greenery dotting the ground at their paws. “It can’t grow in here?”

Petalpaw shook her head. “It’s too delicate. That’s why I need to go to the Moontree.” She stood up and faced Heronpaw. The fear in her eyes was replaced with a fire of determination. “StarClan will show me where to find more catmint.”

Heronpaw was confused.

“What about Plumleaf?” he said. Petalpaw looked away.

“She thinks we can still find some on our own. StarClan helps cats who help themselves.” She said bitterly.

“You don’t think so?”

Petalpaw looked at him again.

“I think it’s too risky. Beepelt is an elder. Quailstep has kits. Brushfire was still recovering from her injuries. If greencough comes then we could lose them all.”

“The Moontree is across three Clan territories.” Heronpaw reminded her.

“And halfway up the mountain. I know.” Petalpaw said. “It would be dangerous in this weather.”

Heronpaw looked at her and then to the two piles of herbs at her paws. Realization hit him.

“You want me to come with you.” He whispered.

Petalpaw nodded. “I trust you.” She said simply.

They looked at each other for a few moments. Heronpaw’s heart was beating loudly in his ears. Petalpaw was right. Too many cats were at risk. Catmint was rare from what he had heard, and it could take moons to find more that hadn’t been killed by the cold.

But taking off across multiple Clan territories without permission would surely get them into more trouble than they had ever been in. Would the other Clans even allow a medicine cat apprentice passage? Would they make it to the Moontree on its rocky peak in this snow and cold?

Heronpaw searched Petalpaw’s face. Her concern for her Clan had driven her to consider disobeying her mentor and possibly breaking the warrior code and she had chosen _him_ as her confidant and companion.

He thought of Quailstep’s kits, tiny and vulnerable. If they caught the sickness they would surely die. He thought of the white cat. She had been overwhelmed by freezing water. Was that a warning? Was she trying to tell Heronpaw that cold could kill his Clan?

He set his jaw. His decision was made. “When do we leave?”

Petalpaw’s tense face melted into an expression gratitude and relief. “Tonight.” She said.

Heronpaw nodded hesitantly.

“I brought travel herbs. They’ll keep us strong for the journey.” Petalpaw gestured to the piles of herbs.

Heronpaw scooted over so he could lick up his share. He paused. “How long will it take us?” he asked.

“We should make it there by sunrise.” She bent to eat the herbs. Suddenly she stiffened and her head shot back up. “I hear someone!” she hissed. Heronpaw jumped and strained his ears. He could hear a shuffling noise from outside their hiding place.

“Heronpaw?” A low mew sounded just beyond the hidden hole.

Heronpaw was startled to recognize Crowpaw’s voice. Had he followed them? Heronpaw shot a glance at Petalpaw. She looked back and shook her head.

“What are you doing?” Crowpaw’s voice became less muffled as the black apprentice poked his head into the hollow. His blue eyes widened as he took in the tiny clearing and its herbs.

“Wha-“He cut off when he saw Petalpaw. His eyes shot back and forth between his brother and the medicine cat apprentice. A look of comprehension dawned on Crowpaw’s narrow face. His pupils shrank to slits and he backed out of the hollow without a word. Heronpaw scrambled to his paws ready to race after his brother. Crowpaw had obviously gotten the wrong idea.

“Wait!” Petalpaw cried. “He won’t tell, will he?”

“He’s seen us. We can’t leave tonight.” Heronpaw said. “I promise we’ll leave soon.” He added quickly when Petalpaw looked upset. Heronpaw leaned forward and touched his nose to hers.

“The weather is bad. What would happen to the sick cats if we never came back?” he mewed softly. Petalpaw shifted from paw to paw. She caught Heronpaw’s eye and nodded.

“Okay.” She said. “Go after Crowpaw.”

Heronpaw turned and squeezed out of the bramble hole. The snowfall had increased substantially in the time he and Petalpaw had been inside. A fresh blanket had already begun to cover Crowpaw’s pawsteps. Thankfully his scent was still discernable. Heronpaw opened his mouth to let his littermate’s familiar scent wash over his tongue. Crowpaw had headed in the direction of the lake. Heronpaw set out after him.

It didn’t take long before Heronpaw caught up to his brother. The snow was falling thicker still. Crowpaw’s black pelt stuck out like a sore paw against the white curtains of snow. He was sitting at the base of a tree. Snow was dusting his ears and back but he didn’t bother shaking it off. Heronpaw slowed his gait as he approached. Crowpaw didn’t look up.

“I was helping her look for herbs.” Heronpaw panted. Crowpaw said nothing.

“I promise that’s all-“

Heronpaw cut off as Crowpaw’s head shot up. His blue eyes were blazing with anger. Heronpaw took a step back. Crowpaw didn’t get _angry_. Annoyed yes, but never angry. Not like this.

“I’m not stupid.” Crowpaw hissed. He stood up, his neck and tail fur fluffed out. “You can’t stay away from her, can you? Don’t you know she’s a _medicine_ cat?” His words were harsh and short. Heronpaw tried to say something but Crowpaw interrupted.

“Petalpaw loves being a medicine cat. Do you understand that?”

“Of course I do.” Heronpaw managed to sputter.

Crowpaw’s face twisted in a snarl. “Clearly you don’t.” he hissed. “But I do, and I’ll do _anything_ to protect her future.” With that Crowpaw shoved Heronpaw aside and bounded off into the storm.

Heronpaw watched him go, angry and bewildered. Petalpaw was his friend. Sure, he thought she was beautiful but that was all. He wasn’t doing anything to jeopardize her future as a medicine cat. Was he?

He shivered. The snow was still coming down heavily. He needed to get back to camp to avoid getting sick. He turned around and came face to face with the white cat. Heronpaw’s stomach lurched and he jumped back a few paces.

The white cat didn’t react. She just stared at him. Heronpaw took a few breaths and composed himself. He raised his head and looked the phantom in the eyes.

“Is this what you were warning me about?” he demanded. Silence.

Frustration surged through Heronpaw’s pelt. All of the injustices and suffering him and his Clan had been through the past moon and this blank, emotionless, _aimless_ thing was doing nothing but _stare_ at him?

“What do you want?” He yowled, taking a step forward. “Are you warning me? Are you causing this?”

Still there was nothing. Heronpaw had had enough. He took a deep breath and charged past the white cat. There was no resistance where his shoulder met her form. She dissipated at his touch. Heronpaw didn’t care. He stalked away from her strange presence and her cryptic gaze.

If she wouldn’t give him answers he would have to find them elsewhere. It didn’t matter if it was dangerous. It didn’t matter if it was a stupid decision.

He was going to the Moontree.


	16. Moon

Snow drifted lazily through the chill evening air as Heronpaw crouched among dried bracken. His yellow eyes were focused on a quivering bush a few paces away. The apprentice took a short breath of the stinging air and held it.

A tiny quivering nose poked out into the open from under the frostbitten stems. Heronpaw stiffened. A brown head and body emerged. The water vole lifted its snout and sniffed the air cautiously. Heronpaw sank back on his haunches, ready to strike.

Before the vole could react, its hunter sprang from the undergrowth and pinned it to the ground. Heronpaw bent and swiftly dispatched his kill. He straightened with the prey in his mouth.

A flash of auburn fur dropped from a tree beside Heronpaw.

“Well done.” Kestrelfeather said as he landed. Heronpaw nodded to his mentor but didn’t try to speak around his mouthful.

The tantalizing scent of fresh-kill was tickling Heronpaw’s nose and flooding his jaws with saliva. A trickle of blood landed on his tongue and his stomach growled loudly.

Kestrelfeather gave his apprentice a sidelong glance. “We’ve done enough.” He announced. “Let’s head back.”

Heronpaw shook his pelt and fluffed it out against the cold. Together he and Kestrelfeather trudged back towards camp through snow that brushed their bellies. They stopped along to way to pick up the rest of their catch. After a full day of hunting they had only managed a vole, a scrawny pigeon, and one mouse. Leafbare’s icy claws had gripped the forest and had not let go.

A full quarter moon had passed since Heronpaw and Petalpaw had decided to trek to the Moontree. They had yet to find a good opportunity to do so. Heavy snowfalls coupled with the worsening health of the Clan had held them back. So they had kept their heads down and did their duties, biding their time until an opportunity arose.

Heronpaw and Kestrelfeather entered camp just as the sun slipped below the horizon. As per the last few days warriors were scattered around the clearing pushing snow out of the way and patching dens. Whiteshade greeted the new arrivals near the entrance with a wave of his tail. His amber eyes flicked over their meager catch but he didn’t say anything. Heronpaw could see worry in the deputy’s eyes.

“Bring your vole to the medicine den. Then you can eat and rest. You did well today.” Kestrelfeather said, breaking into Heronpaw’s thoughts. Heronpaw looked over at his mentor. Before he could thank the warrior, Kestrelfeather bounded away to where Runningriver was packing snow around the base of the elder’s den.

Heronpaw shrugged and made his way over to the medicine den. As he went he suddenly felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He glanced over his shoulder to see Crowpaw sitting outside the apprentice’s den. His blue eyes narrowed at his brother. Heronpaw sniffed and turned away. He was doing his apprentice duties. Crowpaw had no right to look so suspicious.

A stab of guilt pricked at Heronpaw. He _was_ planning to sneak out of camp with Petalpaw. He shook his head. That was for the good of the Clan, not for any personal reason. Heronpaw straightened his shoulders and stalked away from his littermate.

As he reached the medicine den entrance Heronpaw caught a whiff of a sour, pungent scent coming from the hidden clearing. He wrinkled his nose. A hacking cough ripped through the quiet evening air.

“I have fresh-kill.” Heronpaw called through the bracken. He stood just outside the den and shifted from paw to paw, waiting. A few heartbeats later Petalpaw slipped out. She looked exhausted.

“Are you okay?” Heronpaw said immediately. Petalpaw’s green eyes were dull and her pelt looked like it needed a good wash. She shook her head.

“We were up all night with Quailstep.” She said in a weak voice. “She might have greencough. Plumleaf doesn’t want to leave her side.”

Heronpaw’s blood ran cold. 

“The kits?” he asked.

Petalpaw looked up at him. There was defeat in her gaze.

A freezing claw of fear pierced Heronpaw’s heart. Their time had run out. He leaned forward on the pretense of giving Petalpaw the vole. As she took it from him he quickly muttered into her ear.

“Tonight.”

Petalpaw drew back. Her eyes were wide. They held eye contact for a heartbeat before the medicine cat apprentice gave a firm nod. The fear in her eyes was replaced by determination. Heronpaw nodded back and turned away.

His mind whirled as he grabbed a random piece of fresh-kill form the pile. This was it. They were about to sneak out of camp, trespass across two Clan territories, and climb halfway up a mountain. His heart pounded in his chest.

 _StarClan, please let this be the right thing to do!_ He silently pleaded.

. . .

Heronpaw lay curled in his nest, trying to mimic the slow breathing patterns of a sleeping cat. An invisible paw pressed down on his chest preventing him from breathing deeply or being comfortable but it didn’t matter. He didn’t need sleep. He needed to be alert.

The sounds of his denmates settling down for the night were agony. Every time he though they were all asleep he would hear Specklepaw shift or Hawkpaw grumble about soggy moss. Only Crowpaw seemed to be fully inert. He had coiled himself neatly into his nest hours ago and hadn’t moved since.

Finally Heronpaw could hear Specklepaw and Hawkpaw’s breaths slow into the deep rhythms of slumber. Heronpaw waited a few moments more before daring to move. He unraveled his legs and tail and slowly got to his paws. No cat moved.

Careful to avoid any stray tails or paws, Heronpaw slunk out of the den.

The night air bit down on Heronpaw’s nose as he slid out into the open. The camp was completely still and quiet. He quickly fluffed out his pelt and edged along the camp wall. With a final glance around to make sure he was alone, Heronpaw squeezed between two tree trunks and out of the safety of CedarClan’s camp.

He fought through thick, dead undergrowth for a few foxlengths before he burst out into open forest. The few streams of moonlight that filtered down to the snow-covered forest floor were bright and pale. The shadows of cedars stretched endlessly in either direction. The snow sparkled softly in the moonbeams. Heronpaw’s breath caught in his throat at the beauty. Rarely had he seen the forest so still.

Hesitant to disturb the forest, Heronpaw skirted under bushes and around fallen logs. He kept his paws away from untouched snow. It was best not to leave obvious tracks.

Eventually he arrived at he and Petalpaw’s predetermined meeting place; Plumleaf’s herb place. As he approached, Petalpaw poked her head out from between the brambles. Her jaws were stuffed with slightly withered leaves. She slid all the way out into the open and touched Heronpaw’s nose with her own in greeting. She set the herbs at her paws.

“Are you ready?” she said breathlessly.

“As I’ll ever be.” Heronpaw said. His heart pounded at the idea of what they were doing but he had made up his mind. He had to know what the white cat was, and he had to help Petalpaw find answers.

Petalpaw sorted the herbs into two piles and together the apprentices licked them up in silence. The taste was strong and bitter, but Heronpaw swallowed anyway.

Heronpaw glanced at Petalpaw. She caught his gaze and nodded. Together they set out through the freezing forest.

Once their paws were moving Heronpaw began to feel more confident. It was the dead of night. There was a slim chance that they would run into any rival Clan’s patrols. Once they cleared the heavier undergrowth they broke into a run. The snow was thick here, but daily patrols by CedarClan had gouged tracks through the drifts. They kept to these trails, assuming that their paw prints would be lost amongst their Clanmates’ if any cat tried to follow them.

Eventually they reached the riverside and followed it downhill towards the lake. Heronpaw let Petalpaw take the lead here since she actually knew where she was going. She led him a ways down the bank before veering down the frozen slope. Heronpaw clambered after her. The river was narrow here. It dropped past two rock outcrops that jutted out beyond the bank. Petalpaw jumped up onto one of these outcroppings and looked over her shoulder.

“This is where we cross into WillowClan territory.” She said.

Heronpaw looked across the water and felt a chill run up his spine. “Do we really have to go this way?” He glanced at his companion, uncertain.

Petalpaw flicked her eyes to him and then back to the WillowClan side of the river. She seemed to give herself a little shake. “Yes. It’s the quickest route. Besides,” she said, her mew lightened, “I’m a medicine cat. Borders and Clan feuds don’t apply to me.”

Heronpaw hesitated. He didn’t know for sure whether medicine cat _apprentices_ had the same standing as fully fledged ones.

Sensing his uncertainty, Petalpaw pressed her flank against his. “We’ll take care not to be spotted.” She promised.

Heronpaw thought he could hear some of his own nerves in her voice. He gave himself a shake. They were doing this. They wouldn’t get caught. It would be fine.

Heronpaw gave Petalpaw a firm nod. She turned away and crouched. With a strong leap she cleared the river and landed easily on the other side. Heronpaw followed. As his paws touched down on the opposite bank they slipped out from under him. Heronpaw bit back a yowl as he crashed awkwardly onto the gray slate. Petalpaw was at his side instantly.

“Are you okay?” she gasped. Heronpaw rolled onto his paws and took a few deep breaths to gather himself. The spray from the little waterfall had frozen over the smooth rock, causing him to lose his footing on the landing.

“I’m fine.” Heronpaw reassured his friend. He stood up and licked a stinging paw that had been scraped on the gritty ice. Petalpaw sniffed it.

“I wish I had some dock.” She fretted.

Heronpaw shook his head. “It’s fine.” He said. “Let’s go.”

Petalpaw hesitated before leading him down the bank and deeper into WillowClan territory. The rocks on this side of the river were steeper and more angular. To their left a wall of frozen soil and tangled tree roots rose up several tail lengths above their heads. Heronpaw was thankful for the landscape. Any cat at the top of the incline wouldn’t be able to see the two apprentices sneaking along the bank.

This didn’t last, however, and the steep bank soon began to flatten out as they got closer to the lake. By the time the glittering mass peeked out from between the trees the river had widened again and the bank was almost level. Instead of breaking tree cover and heading to the lake, Petalpaw led Heronpaw to the left. They kept to the tree line and padded quickly along. They didn’t dare speak.

They walked with ears pricked and mouths open, ready to catch any sign of a patrol. WillowClan territory felt alien and hostile. These were not the trees Heronpaw knew, even though they were still mostly cedars and birches. They loomed over the trespassers like disapproving queens scolding their unruly kits. Heronpaw wanted to tuck his tail between his legs and hide but he forced himself to keep going.

The ground below them started a gradual slope. Heronpaw perked up. AlderClan territory was rocky and steep. They couldn’t be far away now.

Petalpaw stopped dead.

“Get down!” She hissed, diving into a hazel thicket. Without thinking Heronpaw followed.

His heart painfully skipped a beat as his ears caught the sound of pawsteps crunching through snow. Petalpaw shrank down next to him. Fear scent came off of her in waves. Heronpaw’s own heart thumped wildly in his chest. He pressed his flank to hers, trying to calm them both.

“Cougarstar wants us to recheck the AlderClan border.” A gruff voice drifted towards them through the trees.

“Again?” A nervous mew followed.

“Yes, _again_. Those AlderClan mangepelts have been getting way too close.” The first voice replied. The crunching pawsteps were getting closer. Heronpaw held his breath and peeked through the branches. Petalpaw stiffened beside him.

“They’re on their own territory, aren’t they?” A third voice drawled. “Why should we care?”

There was the sound of a paw thumping on flesh. A yelp of pain followed.

“Shut up, Brackenheart.”

Four WillowClan cats entered Heronpaw’s line of sight. They were several foxlengths away and upwind, but Heronpaw’s stomach still wriggled angrily at the sight of them.

Heronpaw didn’t recognize any of the warriors, but the fourth cat was an apprentice Heronpaw knew as Splashpaw. The little gray and white she-cat was shivering violently in the night air. Her nose glistened with wetness and her wheezing breath was audible even from this distance. The cat who was most likely her mentor padded at her side with tail nervously twitching.

None of the WillowClan cats showed any sign that they detected the trespassing cats on their territory. They seemed eager to finish their patrol and get back to the warmth of their dens. Still, Heronpaw and Petalpaw stayed hidden for a long while after the rival warriors had disappeared from sight.

“Doesn’t any cat realize Splashpaw is sick?” Petalpaw muttered after a lengthy silence. “Cougarstar must be really horrible making her patrol in this weather.”

“We’re not barging into WillowClan’s camp so you can tell off Cougarstar.” Heronpaw said, whiskers twitching in amusement. He let the stress of almost being discovered roll off his pelt. If this was how WillowClan patrolled their territory there was little fear of being caught.

Petalpaw shot Heronpaw a glare.

“I know.” She huffed. She crawled out from under the cramped hazel bush and shook out her coat. Heronpaw followed. They covered the rest of WillowClan’s territory in a rush, following the scent of the patrol. They came upon a small stream that had frozen over. Here the pungent smell of WillowClan mingled with the stony scent of AlderClan. They carefully stepped over the border and into AlderClan territory.

Once they had cleared WillowClan’s scent markers, Petalpaw’s shoulders visibly relaxed.

Soon the trees began to thin and boulders began appearing more frequently. The cover here was sparse and the snow was gritty with pebbles and stones. A sharp breeze cut through Heronpaw’s fur. He shivered.

The moon was creeping down towards the horizon as Heronpaw and Petalpaw clambered over a rocky slope. Heronpaw’s pads ached and but he still felt strong. The traveling herbs Petalpaw had given him had flooded his muscles with energy and kept hunger and fatigue at bay. As Heronpaw looked at their path ahead he silently thanked StarClan for her foresight. The trail ahead was steep and rocky and seemed to extend forever. Lone, shrub-like alder trees were scattered about on the slope.

As they climbed rocky slope after rocky slope the night around them began to lighten into dawn. Heronpaw scrabbled up a boulder and turned to look back the way they had come. The view took his breath away.

The forest below him stretched out forever, a mass of faded green and white. The evergreen tips of cedar and pine trees were dusted with snow that shone slightly in the gray dawn. The lake was a vast blue gray expanse that rippled slightly in the calm wind. Beyond that lay the unnatural angles and colors of twolegplace. Heronpaw let out his breath. It billowed out as a cloud.

“Beautiful isn’t it?” Petalpaw said, stepping up beside him.

“I can’t believe AlderClan cats get to see this every day.” Heronpaw breathed.

“Not nearly that often.” Petalpaw purred. She flicked her tail down the slope. “We crossed the border a while back.”

Heronpaw looked at her, confused.

“I didn’t smell any markers.” He said.

Petalpaw gestured with her head for them to keep moving. Heronpaw fell into step beside her as they began climbing yet another slope.

“They don’t mark their borders this far up.” Petalpaw explained. “Cougars might smell them and come down to try for an easy meal.”

Heronpaw blinked.

“Okay maybe I’m not jealous.” He said. Then a thought occurred to him. “There are cougars up here?”

Petalpaw nodded but she didn’t look concerned. “Finchfoot says they stay away mostly.”

“Mostly?” Heronpaw echoed. Petalpaw shot him a mischievous look from glittering green eyes.

“Not when chatty apprentices are about.” She purred. Heronpaw nudged her and purred back.

They trekked on in silence for a while longer until the sun had risen above the horizon. Heronpaw glanced over his shoulder in the direction he knew CedarClan’s camp was. Some cat had to have noticed they were gone by now. He winced inwardly.

“Heronpaw?” Petalpaw’s soft mew broke through his thoughts. Heronpaw looked back around at his companion.

“Yeah?”

“Remember when you said you wanted to tell me something?”

“Yeah.”

“What was it?”

Heronpaw paused. A quarter moon ago he was ready to tell Petalpaw about the white cat and ask for her help. Now he was on his way to find answers for himself. Why would he put the burden on Petalpaw now?

He looked into Petalpaw’s earnest eyes.

“I’ve been having visions.” He found himself saying.

Petalpaw stopped. Heronpaw turned to face her.

She tilted her head to the side, her ears pressed against her head. Her eyes were wide and confused.

Heronpaw looked down. He searched his paws, trying to think of a way to explain.

“I’ve been seeing a white cat. She’s not _real_.” He glanced up trying to gauge Petalpaw’s reaction. Her expression was hard to read. Heronpaw continued. “She appears to me before bad things happen.” He paused. “And sometimes she comes for no reason.” He added, frustrated. “She’s never spoken to me and no one else can see her.” He ended his explanation, feeling rather lame.

There was a long pause during which Petalpaw looked down at her paws and said nothing. Heronpaw was beginning to think she wasn’t going to speak at all.

“Let’s keep going.” She finally said. Heronpaw watched helplessly as Petalpaw padded past him. He followed her, feeling sick.

They walked in silence for a few heartbeats while Heronpaw’s belly flopped around. Finally Petalpaw spoke.

“When did this start?”

Her voice was level and thoughtful.

“The day of my accident.” Heronpaw said, relieved.

“What happened?”

Heronpaw explained his encounters with the white cat. Petalpaw listened intently. As he spoke, Petalpaw’s expression grew more and more thoughtful. Her eyes narrowed and she looked off ahead of them with eyes that didn’t quite see what was there. When Heronpaw finished there was another silence.

“So…” Heronpaw ventured. “…do you think I’m mad?”

Petalpaw shook her head. Relief washed over Heronpaw.

“There must be some reason she is contacting you.” Petalpaw said.

“Do you think she’s from StarClan?” Heronpaw asked. There was a pause while the two apprentices took turns leaping from rock to rock up a particularly steep slope. As Heronpaw dragged himself to the top he found Petalpaw sitting at the edge looking far into the distance. He sat beside her and waited.

“I don’t know.” Petalpaw finally said. “I’ve never heard of a StarClan cat acting as you have described.”

Heronpaw felt nervous again.

“Where else could she have come from?” He said, shuffling his paws. Petalpaw turned to face him. Her ears were halfway flattened.

“I don’t know, but StarClan will.” She turned and gestured with her head behind them. Heronpaw followed her indication and felt his jaw fall open.

Behind them was a wall of solid rock. The only blemish was a small crevice at the foot of the cold gray stone. A few scrubby bushes flanked the crack. Heronpaw craned his neck so he could see the top of the rocks but to his surprise the mass faded into a dense bank of white mist.

Petalpaw padded forward. “Follow me.” She said.

Heronpaw got up and followed Petalpaw to the crack in the rock. She looked back to make sure he was following and ducked into the darkness. Heronpaw hesitated briefly before going after her.

The sides of the tunnel brushed against Heronpaw’s whiskers. Darkness pressed against his eyes and the smell of wet rock was overpowering. He did his best to focus on the sound of Petalpaw’s footsteps and the feel of her warmth. The closeness of the cold walls made him feel trapped. He forced down his fear and fought the urge to run.

They crept through the gripping blackness for several foxlengths until a soft breeze brushed over Heronpaw’s fur. He strained his eyes, trying to see beyond. The soft outline of Petalpaw’s ears became visible against a small beam of light that flooded in the cave from a far entrance. As the apprentices got closer the light grew brighter until Heronpaw could make out the details of Petalpaw’s light tabby coat.

A few more pawsteps carried them back out into the open. Before Heronpaw could catch his breath it was stolen away by the sight that beheld him. He had stepped out into an open clearing ringed by a wall of dark gray stone. The sides of the walls stretched up an uncountable number of fox-lengths until they too disappeared into that strange, thick white mist.

He sniffed the air. It was _warm._ The ground beneath his paws was soft and green with moss and ferns. In the center of the clearing was a pool of clear water. Growing from the water was a gnarled old tree. It was small for a tree, and its bark was gray and peeling. Its branches hung heavily under the weight of not leaves but bunches of round white fruit.

Heronpaw marveled at the sight. It was beautiful.

Petalpaw walked reverently up to the side of the pool. She turned and gestured to Heronpaw with her tail. He hesitated. It was so pristine and perfect. Was he even worthy to be in such a place? Would his ancestors welcome him? He thought of all he had done to get here and all of the questions he needed answers to. With a deep breath he padded forwards and settled down next to Petalpaw.

She reached up with a paw and speared a single white berry on her claw. A tiny trickle of blood red juice seeped out and soaked her white toe-fur.

“This is the Moonfruit.” She said in a hushed tone. “When we eat it StarClan will give us sleep and walk in our dreams.

Heronpaw reached up as Petalpaw had done and cautiously hooked a fruit from the nearest clump. The thorn sharp tip of his claw pressed onto the skin for just a moment before the resistance gave way and his claw popped into the flesh. It was plump and firm. He brought his paw down in front of his face and inspected the berry.

“How does it grow in leaf-bare?” he asked.

“The Moontree bears fruit in every season.” Petalpaw said. She set the Moonfruit down at her paws and settled herself into a relaxed crouch. Heronpaw mimicked her posture.

“What happens now?” Heronpaw whispered. It felt strange to speak here.

“We eat and dream.” Petalpaw said. She looked at him. Her green eyes seemed to reflect starlight that was not there.

“Good luck.” She breathed. Then she bent and lapped up the berry. She closed her eyes and rested her chin on her paws. Only heartbeats passed before her breath fell into the rhythm of sleep.

Heronpaw looked down at his own fruit. He took a deep breath and took it in in teeth. He set his chin on his paws and closed his eyes.

 _StarClan give me the answers I seek._ He pleaded silently.

He bit down.


	17. Stars

A rush of sweet berry juice flooded Heronpaw’s jaws and coated his tongue. He could feel the chill of the liquid race down his throat and spread from his ears to his tail-tip. He felt cold, like stone. He couldn’t make his body move. A flash of panic lit up his mind as he tried to breathe deeply again and found that he couldn’t make his lungs work. He felt like he was choking on nothing until…

He opened his eyes. He was not where he had been before. 

A lush, green forest had replaced the tranquil, rock-lined clearing. The ferns and cedars around him were familiar. Was this CedarClan territory? He flexed his muscles, testing if he could move them again. They responded like they should and Heronpaw rose to his paws.

The air around him was thick with smells of prey and new growth. This forest, wherever it was, was in the full swing of Greenleaf. Heronpaw looked around and saw birds flitting from tree to tree. A fat squirrel shot past him and streaked up a tree trunk. The smell of mouse and vole were overwhelming. Heronpaw’s stomach growled.

An unexpected voice drifted to his ears from behind him.

“Hello Heronpaw.” The voice said.

Heronpaw spun around and came face to face with a tiny white and gray she-cat. Her green eyes shone just like her mother’s as she looked the apprentice up and down. Her pelt looked soft and glowed with health. She still had tufts of kit-fur around her ears, just as he remembered her. Starlight swirled around her tiny paws and her form gave off a soft light. Heronpaw felt a lump grow in his throat at the sight of his lost littermate.

“Dovekit.” He whispered. The little she-cat cocked her head to the side and purred.

“I’m glad you’re here.” She said. She lifted herself up on her tip-toes and stretched so she could touch her little pink nose to his. Heronpaw was shocked at how small she was. He remembered her as being little and sickly but still about his own size. Now he towered over her like a tree towered over a sapling.

“I know why you’ve come.” Dovekit said in her tiny voice. It was still that of a kit’s but it exuded a wisdom far beyond her form. Her eyes were deep and thoughtful and they reflected infinite starlight.

“You do?” Heronpaw finally managed to say. Dovekit purred.

“Of course I do. What kind of sister would I be if I didn’t watch over my littermates?”

Heronpaw purred back. Dovekit’s purr faded and she turned from him.

“Walk with me.” She said.

Heronpaw fell into step beside the little cat. She took such tiny steps that Heronpaw had to slow his gait considerably so he didn’t leave her behind. Despite her stubby legs, Dovekit walked with a grace that rivaled a full-grown she-cat’s.

“What you have seen is very troubling.” Dovekit said after a moment. “It forebodes something dark. Something even we in StarClan cannot see.”

Heronpaw’s stomach lurched.

“What do you mean? Isn’t the white cat from StarClan?”

Dovekit stopped walking and looked up into her brother’s face.

“She is not.” She said. Heronpaw felt like he should find this news profoundly disturbing. Instead he looked into Dovekit’s wise eyes and felt calm.

“Who is she?” Heronpaw asked.

“I don’t know.” Dovekit said. “But you must find out.” The continued walking. The forest seemed to move before their paws, allowing them to walk without fear of tripping over roots or falling into bramble bushes.

“How?” Heronpaw’s anxiety was creeping back now that he couldn’t look directly into Dovekit’s calming face.

“She has been forgotten by those of us in StarClan, but there are some that walk with you that remember.” Dovekit said.

Heronpaw was confused.

“How can a regular cat remember what StarClan has forgotten?” He asked, becoming desperate.

Dovekit paused and turned to face Heronpaw.

“Because StarClan has chosen to forget.” She said quietly.

There was a moment of silence between the two cats as birdsong filled the air and the swish of the needly canopy mimicked the wind. Heronpaw was struck by a deep feeling in his gut. This was bigger than he had imagined. It was something that even StarClan wasn’t willing to face.

“There is a shadow.” Dovekit went on. “It is hiding in plain sight, waiting for a time to strike.” Her eyes grew wide and her little ears flattened. “I wish I could see what it is for you, but I can’t. It’s beyond my sight, Heronpaw.”

Heronpaw’s chest tightened. 

“What can I do?” He breathed.

“Uncover the past.” Dovekit said. “Find what StarClan has locked away.” Dovekit locked eyes with Heronpaw. She searched them for a moment, raw emotion spilling from their green depths. “You’ve grown so much.” She whispered. The lump in Heronpaw’s throat returned. He leaned down and delicately touched noses with the tiny cat. She closed her eyes for a moment, then reopened them.

“ _Only those older than the blizzards themselves will remember._ ” She said in a faraway voice. It echoed strangely in the empty forest around them.

Dovekit leaned up to Heronpaw’s ear. He dropped his head so she could reach it easier.

“The lake will only freeze once again.” She whispered. She pulled away and suddenly her presence was gone completely. Heronpaw blinked and opened his mouth to call for her. Instead he found himself curled at the edge of the pool again. Dovekit’s warm, milky scent was gone, replaced only by the smell of wet rock and water. A stab of grief pierced his heart.

Heronpaw made to get up but his limbs were stiff and cold. How long had he been asleep? It hadn’t seemed like long but his body felt as if it had been motionless for days. He flexed his muscles in an attempt to wake them. Warm blood rushed to his limbs and Heronpaw rose to his paws. He looked to his side and found Petalpaw still asleep at the water’s edge.

Heronpaw sat and began cleaning one paw as he thought. The revelation that the white cat was not from StarClan was troubling to say the least. How was that even possible? He remembered Dovekit saying that StarClan had _chosen_ to forget. What had made them turn their backs on the white cat? Could she be the source of the darkness Dovekit could not see? And what cat in the entire forest was older than the blizzards themselves?

The questions in his mind made his stomach swirl and clench. This visit hadn’t made anything clearer. In fact, it made things even more confusing. He could only hope that Petalpaw was getting the answers she needed to help the Clan. A dark and terrible future meant nothing if the Clan didn’t live through leaf-bare to see it.

Petalpaw shifted. Heronpaw jumped. A heartbeat passed before Petalpaw’s eyes flew open and she gasped loudly. Heronpaw took a step back, alarmed. Petalpaw looked wildly around for a moment until her eyes fell on Heronpaw. They went from wide and fearful to soft and calm almost instantly.

“ _Look to the dawn and follow his heart.”_ Petalpaw said. Her voice had the same faraway quality that Dovekit’s had taken on. “That’s what she said.” Her voice faded back to its normal tone.

“Who?” Heronpaw asked as he stepped forward to help Petalpaw to her weakened legs.

“Plumleaf’s mentor, Dewberry. She came to me and gave me a prophecy.” Petalpaw’s voice shook with excitement. She looked at Heronpaw, her eyes shining. “It must be about Dawnheart!”

Heronpaw agreed. If only his prophecy had been so transparent.

“Come on, we need to get home.” Petalpaw said. She leaned back in a long stretch. Her tail kinked high over her back. She straightened up and headed straight for the tunnel. Heronpaw bounded after her.

They left through the rocky tunnel at a much faster pace than they had entered it. Heronpaw could feel Petalpaw’s impatience and he shared it. The sooner they got home the sooner they could find out what Dawnheart had to do with the catmint. Every moment that passed was a moment that any case of whitecough could worsen into deadly greencough.

Heronpaw made the conscious decision to put his own dream at the back of his mind until his Clan had the herbs they needed. Dovekit hadn’t sounded that urgent and the white cat could wait until CedarClan was safe. Heronpaw put all of his thought an energy into the task at hand. Get down the mountain and get home without being seen by a rival Clan.

The apprentices burst from the crack in the mountainside and began their ascent. The sun was high in the sky now and CedarClan was bound to be in a frenzy looking for the missing cats. Heronpaw tried not to think about how Ferntail and Kestrelfeather must be feeling. He focused intently on jumping from stone to stone down the steep incline that led to the Moontree cave.

The climb down the mountainside was hard work. Petalpaw’s herbs had worn off by now and Heronpaw could feel hunger and tiredness dragging at his paws. He managed to stop Petalpaw and convince her to hunt before they crossed into AlderClan territory.

“We need the strength.” He had said as she tried to protest.

In the present moment Heronpaw was stalking a skinny snow hare that he had spotted hiding amongst snow covered boulders on a slope. He kept low, silently cursing his dark coat. If would be all too easy for the hare to spot his black fur against the snow. Luckily the hare was distracted by something else. Heronpaw grew near enough to strike.

He tucked his paws under him and sank back on his haunches ready to pounce. He opened his mouth and drew in the chill air. The hare twitched. Heronpaw bunched his muscles.

Something was wrong.

Instincts taking over, Heronpaw flattened himself to the snow instead of pouncing. A heartbeat later a huge brown shape came crashing down from the rocks above, flattening the hare under its huge front paws. Heronpaw bit back a yowl of fear and surprise. A cougar had been stalking the same prey as him.

Heronpaw’s natural urge was to flee as fast as he could, but a voice somewhere beneath the terror told him that would just draw attention to him. The cougar was intent on its prey for the moment, but what if it caught a whiff of his fear scent? Heronpaw’s thoughts jumped to Petalpaw who was scouring the nearby foliage for helpful herbs. She had no idea what was happening.

Heart banging against his rib cage, Heronpaw silently crept backwards. He was partially hidden by shrubs and boulders but his coat was still _so_ obvious.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the huge beast. It was vaguely shaped like a cat, with the same head shape and whiskered muzzle, but its body was wide and hard with muscle. Its tail was as thick as an apprentice’s body and its ears were short and close to its head. Its paws were impossibly massive. 

It bent to take its prey in its mouth revealing long, thick fangs. Heronpaw imagined those fangs sinking into his body as easily as his fangs pierced the flesh of a mouse. That’s all he was to this creature. Prey.

The sound of pawsteps crunching through snow behind him made his heart sink. Petalpaw.

 _No. Turn around._ He pleaded silently. The pawsteps came closer. The cougar raised its head, whiskers twitching on its blood stained muzzle. A low growling sound rose from its throat. Without pausing to think Heronpaw jumped to his feet and let out a strangled yowl.

The cougar’s head snapped around and its cold brown eyes fixed on Heronpaw. There was a moment during which Heronpaw finally realized what he had just done and the cougar drew its lips back in a horrible snarl.

Heronpaw turned on his heel and fled.

He ran harder than he had ever run in his life. He heard the sound of the Cougar chasing after him through the roaring of blood in his ears. Its huge paws thundered across the rocks. Each impact terrified Heronpaw to his very core. He ran without purpose, scrabbling across the dull stone and around scraggly trees. Panic began to replace the air in his lungs.

An unearthly scream split the air. The high pitched sound ripped at Heronpaw’s ears and vibrated through his body down to his bones. He jumped so violently that he almost lost his footing. Ahead he could see more trees. If he could get to them he might be able to climb one and hide.

Suddenly a new sound pierced the air. A fierce, warbling yowl seemed to come from every direction at once. Heronpaw fought the urge to run away from the sound. He kept speeding towards the safety of tree cover.

The warning yowls and shrieks grew louder and more threatening as Heronpaw reached the trees. He shot up the nearest trunk with numb paws. He gripped the bark with all twenty of his claws. His heart felt like it was going to burst. Heronpaw looked wildly around for his pursuer.

The cougar had slowed to an angry pace just outside the tree line. The challenging yowls and screams of the invisible cats in the trees seemed to irritate it. It shook its bulky head and let out one more screech before turning tail and leaping back up the slope. Heronpaw’s body shook as he watched it leap ten foxlengths with ease. With a thrash of its thick tail the cougar disappeared over a boulder and out of sight.

Heronpaw clung to his branch letting waves of terror wash over him. He had just been chased by a cougar. On _purpose_. His thought snapped back to Petalpaw. Where was she? Was she safe? Desperately Heronpaw tried to get his body to move. It refused to budge. He stared down at the ground below him. There was no cougar there. It was safe.

Safe, anyway, until an entire patrol of AlderClan warriors came into view. They gathered around the tree Heronpaw had sheltered in and were staring up at him with wide, disbelieving eyes. The leader, a black tom with one white ear, stepped forward.

“Are you _insane_?” He demanded.

Heronpaw’s claws finally relaxed their death grip on the branch.

“Have you seen my Clanmate?” He called back in a shaky voice. The black tom’s amber eyes widened and he turned to his patrol. He muttered something to them and they ran off in the direction the cougar had gone.

“Please.” Heronpaw croaked. “Please you have to find her.”

The black tom looked up at Heronpaw. His hard expression softened the smallest bit.

“Why don’t you come down?” he called. Heronpaw focused his eyes on the distant, lichen spattered stone. The image spun before his eyes and before he knew it he was sliding sideways off his branch and plummeting towards the ground.

. . .

Groggily, Heronpaw came to. His head hurt. His legs hurt. His paw _really_ hurt. He opened his eyes with a grunt. His surroundings swam into view. He was in some sort of den. The scent of herbs crowded his nose and mouth and made him cough. Light streamed in through the crisscrossing branches over his head. The ground beneath him was soft with moss and feathers.

 _Petalpaw!_ His mind screamed. His eyes snapped all the way open and he struggled to get to his paws.

“Get _down_.” A frustrated mew snapped. Heronpaw looked around to see a pale yellow and white tom sitting on the far side of the mossy den. He was sorting herbs into piles with swift movements of his small paws. Heronpaw suddenly recognized him. It was Finchfoot the AlderClan medicine cat.

“Where’s Petalpaw?” Heronpaw demanded in an embarrassingly weak voice. Finchfoot glanced up at his patient with annoyed green eyes. He sniffed.

“She’s alive if that’s what you mean.” The older cat said. Heronpaw’s stomach lurched.

“What happened?” He demanded, struggling to get up again.

Finchfoot sighed and got up. He padded over and planted a firm paw on Heronpaw’s side. Finchfoot shoved the apprentice back in his nest.

“I said stay still.” He hissed. Heronpaw glared at the medicine cat. “Petalpaw is fine. Snakefeather and Mudmask found her before the cougar did.” Finchfoot said.

Heronpaw sank back into his nest, relief washing over him.

“You’re incredibly stupid you know.” Finchfoot added. Heronpaw opened his mouth, indignant, but Finchfoot continued. “Even the smallest AlderClan kit knows never to antagonize a cougar.” The medicine cat sniffed again and padded back to his herbs.

“Where is Petalpaw?” Heronpaw asked again. Finchfoot looked up from his work and rolled his eyes.

“She’s explaining to Eaglestar why two CedarClan apprentices were on AlderClan land.”

“She’s a medicine cat.” Heronpaw protested. “She doesn’t need to-“

“Medicine cat _apprentice.”_ Finchfoot interrupted. “She can’t just go wherever she likes.”

Heronpaw opened his mouth to argue more but the arrival of more cats cut him off. Petalpaw was escorted into Finchfoot’s den by the black tom from earlier.

“Eaglestar wants you to look after her while we decide what to do with them.” The warrior said to Finchfoot.

Petalpaw’s green eyes lit up when she saw Heronpaw and she pushed past her attendant and raced to her Clanmate’s side. She shoved her muzzle against Heronpaw’s and purred loudly.

“You’re okay!” she cried into his fur. Her voice shook. Heronpaw rubbed his jaw against hers and purred back. Petalpaw suddenly pulled away. Heronpaw looked up at her and saw that she was staring awkwardly to the side. Finchfoot was glaring at her from a corner.

“Thank you. Nighthawk. I’ll take it from here.” The medicine cat said between gritted teeth. The black warrior dipped his head and pulled backwards out of the den.

There was a moment of silence.

“What in StarClan’s name possessed you, girl?!” Finchfoot burst out.

Petalpaw gathered herself up and stood tall under the AlderClan cat’s angry stare.

“I needed to speak to StarClan.” She said, raising her chin. 

“Without your mentor?” Finchfoot said incredulously.

“She sent me.” Petalpaw shot back. Her mew wavered with the lie. Finchfoot’s eyes narrowed and he scoffed.

“You’re a terrible liar.” He hissed.

Petalpaw flinched but didn’t reply. Heronpaw wanted to defend his Clanmate but he couldn’t find the right words.

“When can we leave?” Petalpaw said, doing her best impression of Plumleaf’s commanding voice. “We need to get back to our Clan right away.”

“That’s not up to me.” Finchfoot said, turning back to his herbs. “You endangered the Clan by leading that cougar straight at us. I doubt Eaglestar is very happy.”

Petalpaw opened her mouth to reply but closed it again. Instead she sat down with a thump. Heronpaw sat up and pressed his flank to her side.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered. “It’s my fault we got caught.”

Petalpaw looked at him with wide eyes.

“You saved me.” She said simply. “I would’ve walked right into that cougar if you hadn’t distracted it.”

Heronpaw still felt sick. Was that really true?

“Don’t worry.” Petalpaw said, leaning into Heronpaw’s side. “Eaglestar has no right to keep us here.”

They sat in silence for a while. Petalpaw eventually started grooming Heronpaw’s fur and he returned the favor. Finchfoot muttered in the corner all the while.

As the light filtering in from the ceiling of the den began to gray and fade, an apprentice arrived with fresh-kill. The sight and smell of the rabbit made Heronpaw’s jaws flood with water. He had forgotten how hungry he was. Finchfoot thanked the apprentice with surprising kindness and dragged the animal into the den. He busily tore the hind legs from the catch and tossed them to the apprentices.

Heronpaw dug in to the fresh-kill. It wasn’t much but he hardly imagined that AlderClan had much to spare in this harsh of a leaf-bare. Petalpaw nibbled at her piece, her eyes unfocused.

It had darkened completely outside before they got any news. A silver tabby she-cat stuck her head in the den and muttered something into Finchfoot’s ear. The medicine cat grimaced but nodded and the she-cat retreated.

“What did she say?” Heronpaw demanded.

Finchfoot shot him a glare.

“You’re awfully snappy for a cat in so much trouble.” He said dryly. Then when Heronpaw reopened his mouth he said “You’re to stay here overnight.”

Petalpaw’s head snapped up. “We can’t!” she said. “We’ve wasted too much time already.”

“You should’ve thought of that before tramping through our territory then.” Finchfoot growled. He gathered a mouthful of herbs and stalked out of the den. Petalpaw watched him go with hatred in her eyes.

“I can’t stand him!” she hissed. She turned to Heronpaw. Her voice turned desperate. “We have to get out of here.”

Heronpaw nodded. He sat up and assessed his injuries. His old injury felt sore and his paws were aching from his mad dash from the cougar. Otherwise he seemed fine. He got to his feet.

Heronpaw snuck towards the entrance to the den and listened. He could hear the general hum of nighttime activity of a Clan; apprentices chattering, elders complaining, warriors settling down into their nests. Unfortunately Heronpaw could also hear the two warriors standing right outside the den. They were talking softly about the day’s events. Heronpaw withdrew from the entrance.

“We’re being guarded.” He said to Petalpaw. She worked her paws in the moss.

“I keep thinking about Morningpaw and the kits.” She said. Her ears were flat to her head and her eyes shone with distress. “What if we don’t get there in time? What if-“

“Plumleaf is with them.” Heronpaw said. “She won’t let them die.”

Petalpaw gazed into his eyes and gave a shaky nod. Heronpaw settled down in the nest next to Petalpaw and leaned into her warm side. She sighed and pressed against him.

_Please Dovekit, let our Clan be okay._


	18. Weakness

Dusk flooded the forest with shadows as three CedarClan cats cut deep tracks through a blanket of fresh, white snow.

Dawnheart trekked through the snow alongside his Clanmates, struggling to push the freezing stuff out of his way. It was thick and undisturbed here in the dawn-wards part of the territory. No cat had been here for a half a moon at least. It didn’t yield any prey in the colder moons so there was no purpose.

A lump of snow from a branch above his head fell and landed directly on Dawnheart’s muzzle. He sneezed.

The small patrol stopped dead. Swiftwing, the leader, whirled around and fixed Dawnheart with a suspicious stare. Hawkpaw shifted his paws nervously in the snow beside his mentor.

“Are you sick?” Swiftwing demanded. Dawnheart shook his head.

“Just an itch.” He said. The black and white tom narrowed his eyes but didn’t make an accusation.

It had been like this for days. Every cat who so much as sniffled was treated like they were diseased. The air in the camp was tense and fearful. It seemed like every day a new cat fell ill with whitecough. Dawnheart had heard rumors that greencough was in the camp.

And now Heronpaw and Petalpaw were missing.

Dawnheart focused his attention on looking for any signs of the apprentices; paw prints, a bit of fur snagged on a stick, a scent, anything. There was nothing, however. No cat had been able to find any trace of them.

Dawnheart’s mind was fraught with worry. Heronpaw had been particularly agitated this past moon. What could have caused his friend to run off? Dawnheart’s gaze flicked to Hawkpaw. The usually rowdy apprentice’s tail was dragging in the snow and his ears were flat. Dawnheart felt a rush of sympathy for the tabby. He couldn’t imagine how he would feel if Frayclaw disappeared.

The sparse patrol made its way to the PineClan border. The snow was thinner here due to the abundance of wide pine trees. Swiftwing led them right up to the border; a thin, unused twoleg path. He sent Hawkpaw and Dawnheart along the border in either direction to remark it. Swiftwing himself sat under squat pine and waited.

When Dawnheart had returned from marking his share of the border, Swiftwing hadn’t moved. Dawnheart settled beside the warrior and shifted uncomfortably. He didn’t like being so near a twoleg thing. The path was a stretch of bare soil about a fox-length in width, though right now it was mostly covered by snow. It wound off into the forest in either direction. Short, shiny branches stuck out of the ground next to the path at equal intervals all the way down. A weird brown tendril hung between each branch, connecting them.

 _Twolegs are so mousebrained_. Dawnheart thought. _Why make your paths so obvious?_ CedarClan disguised their pathways by letting natural growth obscure them. Twolegs practically shouted to the forest “We use this! This is ours!”

Suddenly Swiftwing stiffened beside him. Dawnheart jumped a little and looked up. Through the dim light that filtered through the dense pine trees he could just make out the silhouettes of cats. PineClan.

Swiftwing stood up and raised his tail in a peaceful gesture. Dawnheart did the same. The PineClan cats turned their eyes towards the border. They glowed in the half light. Then they blinked out of sight.

Dawnheart squinted, trying to locate the cats but they had all but vanished. Swiftwing didn’t move.

“Can we help you?” A gruff voice sounded from the right. Dawnheart jumped. He turned to see the PineClan patrol standing at the border’s edge. They had appeared from around a thick trunk of a tree. Dawnheart shivered. These cats had completely fooled him with their stealth.

The cat who had spoken was a tall black warrior with a white chest. He fixed the CedarClan cats with a reserved stare, not hostile but not welcoming either. Swiftwing dipped his head to the cat.

“Greetings, Longshadow.” He said. “We come on behalf of our Clan.”

Longshadow cocked his head.

“Surely CedarClan doesn’t need to ask PineClan for help.” He said slowly. The apprentice at his side snickered. Longshadow shot her a withering look from pale yellow eyes. The apprentice, a white she-cat, bowed her head.

“Blizzardstar would like to know if you have scented any CedarClan cats on your territory.” Swiftwing said carefully.

Longshadow’s eyes widened. Another warrior, a dark ginger she-cat, stepped forward. Her neck fur bristled.

“Are you openly admitting to trespassing?” she snarled.

“Back off, Scarletclaw.” Longshadow snapped. He turned back to Swiftwing.

“We have not. May I ask why?” the PineClan warrior said. His mew was still smooth and diplomatic despite his bristling Clanmate at his side.

While the warriors were talking, Hawkpaw had returned. He came to a halt at Dawnheart’s side and examined the situation with surprisingly calm gray eyes.

“Two apprentices have gone missing.” Swiftwing admitted after a moment.

Longshadow shook his head. “A shame.” He said. Scarletclaw’s fur flattened. The third warrior, a tabby tom, stood in the shadows and didn’t react.

“I’ll ask Griffonstar to keep a lookout.” Longshadow said as he signaled his patrol with his tail. The PineClan warriors turned to leave. “I hope you find them.” The black warrior added before leading his cats back into the shadows of their territory.

After a moment Swiftwing sighed and turned away from the border.

“Why did you admit our weakness?” Hawkpaw asked. His tone wasn’t accusatory, just genuinely curious. 

Swiftwing eyed his apprentice.

“CedarClan has had no quarrel with PineClan for seasons. Griffonstar is an honorable leader. There is no reason to believe that PineClan would use this against us.” He said.

“It would be suspicious to ask if they’ve scented our cats and then say ‘oh no reason’ when they asked why.” Dawnheart added. Hawkpaw looked down at his paws.

“We thought WillowClan was honorable, too.” He said under his breath.

Swiftwing ignored his apprentice and began leading the patrol back towards CedarClan’s camp. Hawkpaw’s words worried Dawnheart though. The apprentice was right. There had been no reason to suspect that WillowClan would suddenly start attacking border patrols and elders and yet that is what they had done.

He felt a pang of grief for Spottedfur. She was always willing to see the best in every cat. Her naiveté was probably the reason she had spent her life in the nursery with queens and kits.

Dawnheart let himself get lost in thoughts of Spottedfur as the patrol made their way back to camp.

When they arrived they were greeted by a sudden commotion. Warriors were gathered around Talonscore and Crowpaw in the center of the clearing. Every cat who hadn’t yet fallen ill was here, clamoring to get near the ginger tom and his apprentice. Whiteshade was calling for order.

Dawnheart stopped just inside the clearing. Frayclaw broke free from the crowd and bounded over.

“What’s going on?” Dawnheart said when the gray tom had grown near enough.

“WillowClan moved the border.” Frayclaw growled.

Shock shot through Dawnheart. “ _What?_ ”

“Silence!” A booming yowl cut through the turmoil. Almost immediately the cats fell silent. They turned to face Blizzardstar as he leapt up onto the Highbranch. “Talonscore, report.” He said once settled.

The crowd of cats parted and Talonscore and Crowpaw walked forward.

“We found WillowClan scent markers all along the tree-line. There were WillowClan warriors posted every tree-length.” Said Talonscore.

Angry yowls burst the silence. All around the clearing cats were jumping to their feet and voicing their displeasure. Swiftwing and Hawkpaw were standing shoulder to shoulder at the edge of the clearing, their fur fluffed and claws out. Kestrelfeather was pacing in angry circles, his tail lashing. It took a few moments for Blizzardstar and Whiteshade to calm the crowd once more.

“They must have done it while we were all searching.” Dawnheart muttered to Frayclaw. The gray warrior opened his mouth to reply but a hacking cough came out instead. Dawnheart’s stomach lurched and he whipped his head around to face his friend. Frayclaw avoided Dawnheart’s gaze.

Dawnheart stared at his denmate for a heartbeat longer. His gray muzzle was wet and his eyes were dull. Now that Dawnheart was focusing he could hear a faint wheeze come from Frayclaw whenever he breathed in.

“You’re sick.” Dawnheart whispered, horrified.

“I’m fine.” Frayclaw rasped. 

Dawnheart opened his mouth to argue but he was silenced by Frayclaw’s harsh glare. Dawnheart grudgingly turned his attention back to the meeting.

“Did you engage any of the warriors?” Blizzardstar was saying.

Talonscore shook his head.

“We need to confront them.” Shadowgrove called from the front of the crowd.

“What if they took the apprentices and are using them as a ransom for more land?” Swiftwing yelled out. Several warriors nodded and began muttering. Ferntail looked horrified.

“There’s no evidence of that.” Falconstorm said glaring at Swiftwing. The big tabby wrapped his tail around his mate defensively.

“It’s still possible.” Whiteshade admitted.

“Regardless, Shadowgrove is right.” Blizzardstar said. “There isn’t time to waste. Shadowgrove, you stay here and guard the camp.” Blizzardstar’s blue eyes swept over the crowd. “Ferntail and Kestrelfeather you stay with him. All other able-bodied cats are with me.” With that, Blizzardstar jumped down from his perch and made his way over to the camp entrance. Warriors swarmed around him, forming ranks.

Dawnheart cast a glance at Frayclaw. The gray warrior avoided eye contact and made to join the growing battle patrol. Dawnheart jumped forward and blocked him. Frayclaw narrowed his eyes at his friend.

“Blizzardstar said able-bodied.” Dawnheart said.

“I’m not letting you go alone.” Frayclaw hissed.

Dawnheart was taken aback.

“I won’t be alone.” He argued.

“Look at us. Half of the warriors are sick. You’ll be outnumbered.” Frayclaw said.

Dawnheart looked at the battle patrol. It was much smaller than he was used to seeing. He noticed with a pang that Ferntail and Shadowgrove both looked ragged. Were the only cats left to guard the camp sick too?

Dawnheart shook his head.

“You’ll get worse if you fight.” He said.

“Are you two coming?” Whiteshade’s question interrupted their argument.

“No.” “Yes.” Dawnheart and Frayclaw said at the same time. Whiteshade cocked his head.

“Frayclaw is sick.” Dawnheart said quickly.

“It’s just a cold.” Frayclaw protested, stepping forward. “I can still fight.”

Whiteshade looked his former apprentice up and down. Frayclaw straightened his back, trying to look strong. The image was soiled by his dripping muzzle and wheezing breath. After a moment the deputy shook his head.

“No. Stay here. Kestrelfeather can take your place.” He said firmly. Frayclaw opened his mouth to argue but Whiteshade turned his back on the warrior.

Frayclaw turned to Dawnheart. The cream warrior flinched, expecting anger. Instead, Frayclaw’s eyes were burning with a different emotion.

“Come back.” He said quietly. His frame drooped. Without his façade of health, the gray warrior looked exhausted and battered. Dawnheart stepped forward and touched his denmate’s head with his nose. Frayclaw’s fur burned with fever.

“I will.” Dawnheart promised.

“CedarClan, let’s go!” Blizzardstar called from the camp entrance. Dawnheart licked Frayclaw’s head and slid past his denmate. He didn’t look back, but he could imagine Frayclaw looking after him with tired, fearful eyes.

Dawnheart fell into step beside Blackmoth who was near the back of the patrol. She nodded to him but said nothing. Her eyes were focused and she was flexing her claws with every step.

The CedarClan battle patrol filed through the fern tunnel and out into the forest. Dawnheart craned his neck, trying to count heads. Nine warriors including himself, two apprentices, and Blizzardstar. Weakened by hunger, cold, and exhaustion, they weren’t a very impressive group.

Blizzardstar led his Clan through the now dark forest. The snow muffled every sound and scent, and the trees crowded out the sky. The only sound was the collective rustling of pelts and the crunch of snow under-paw.

Dawnheart’s blood pounded in his ears as he ran alongside his Clanmates. Frozen breaths billowed from muzzles that gaped open, showing battle ready fangs. A haze of tension steamed from beneath pelts that bristled with anticipation. Dawnheart breathed in, filling his lungs with stinging, roiling air.

The patrol began to slow. At the head, Blizzardstar raised his tail and moved it from side to side in a careful sweeping motion. Silently, the CedarClan warriors spread out on either side of their leader. Dawnheart followed Blackmoth to a spot between a cedar and a boulder. They stood, ears pricked, a few tail-lengths to Blizzardstar’s right.

Blizzardstar raised his tail again and lowered it slowly. As one, the CedarClan patrol crouched down and concealed themselves amongst rocks and dead undergrowth. Dawnheart huddled behind a bramble bush and waited.

Blizzardstar stayed where he was atop a raised mound of soil. A young tree jutted out of the slope behind him. The ground before his paws fell away into a short cliff tangled with roots and stones. Icicles, long and cruel, hung from the lip of the mound. Whiteshade leapt up onto the mound beside his leader.

“Cougarstar!” Blizzardstar called into the night. His voice was like thunder.

There was a long pause. Blizzardstar didn’t move or call again. He just waited.

Dawnheart peeked through his bramble bush down the hill. He could see where the tree-line ended from here. Beyond that lay the quietly rushing river. He squinted. He could just make out a few shapes flitting about on the CedarClan side of the border.

Suddenly a group of five or six cats entered Dawnheart’s view. They padded straight at Blizzardstar, their backs straight and heads held high. Dawnheart recognized Cougarstar and her deputy, Owlears, at the head of the group.

The WillowClan cats stopped five or so fox-lengths from Blizzardstar.

Cougarstar stepped forward, her sandy brown tail twitching in irritation.

“I will not be made to wait on my own territory.” Blizzardstar began in his rumbling voice. “Explain yourself.”

Cougarstar’s eyes widened. She curled her lip back in a snarl.

“I’m not one of your mouse-brained apprentices.” She said. Her voice shook with anger. “I’ve taken what I want already. This land is ours.”

Blizzardstar cocked his head.

“Is it?”

The CedarClan leader waved his tail. In unison his hidden warriors revealed themselves and stepped up onto the rim of the slope. Dawnheart couldn’t help but feel brave and impressive as he saw the look of surprise pass over Cougarstar’s face. It was fleeting, however, and her usual scowl was back in a heartbeat.

“Is that it?” She scoffed. “Are the rest of them still dying from greencough?”

Dawnheart hissed, anger flaring in his chest. Blackmoth stiffened beside him. Kestrelfeather let out a warning yowl from further down the line.

“What makes you think you can attack my warriors, kill my queens, and take my land?” Blizzardstar spat.

Cougarstar’s eyes lit up and her face twisted into an ugly sneer.

“You haven’t done anything to stop me yet.” She said.

Blizzardstar’s shoulders tensed. He lifted his tail off the ground just enough that only his warriors could see. Dawnheart stiffened.

“I was waiting for you to come to me.” Blizzardstar said quietly.

Cougarstar cocked her head, her mocking expression fading into one of confusion. Before she could respond, Blizzardstar flicked his tail upward.

Dawnheart sprang. His Clanmates followed with angry screeches. The WillowClan warriors stumbled backward in shock. Cougarstar was the only one who stood her ground. She met Blizzardstar mid leap and the two leaders tumbled over and over in a screeching mass.

Dawnheart landed lightly in the snow and set his sights on a spotted tabby she-cat. He leapt, catching her off guard. He landed forepaws-down on the she-cat’s shoulders. She shrieked with anger and crashed to the ground. Dawnheart jumped up and readied himself for a counter-attack. The WillowClan warrior struggled to her paws and lunged.

Dawnheart dodged to the side and raked the she-cat’s flank. He underestimated her speed, however, and she managed to close her jaws around his tail as she flew past. Pain shot up his spine. He shrieked and wrenched his tail out of his enemy’s grip. He whirled to face her again.

Another WillowClan warrior had joined the fight. As Dawnheart glanced around he saw even more WillowClan warriors crashing through the undergrowth. They must have been lying in wait close by. The she-cat and the newcomer, a dark tabby tom, advanced on the lone CedarClan warrior.

Dawnheart backed up, dodging blows. He was soon forced to rear on his back legs to block an attack with both fore-legs. The she-cat took the opportunity to dodge behind Dawnheart and leap onto his back. She dug in her claws and bit down on his shoulder.

Dawnheart screeched as fresh pain seared across his shoulders. He wobbled on his hind legs for a moment before throwing all his weight backward. He landed on top of his attacker, shoving her into the snow. The she-cat gasped as the air was driven from her lungs.

Dawnheart wriggled free of her grip and leapt to his paws, ready to face the tabby tom. He was relieved to see that Blackmoth had arrived. The black she-cat wrestled with the slimmer WillowClan cat. Blackmoth’s shoulder muscles bulged as she slowly overpowered the tabby tom. Dawnheart slid forward and slashed his claws along the warrior’s exposed flank.

The warrior snarled and tried to kick at Dawnheart but the CedarClan warrior was too quick. He spun around to the tom’s other side and delivered a similar blow to his opposite flank. The tom struggled to retaliate but Blackmoth held fast. Dawnheart leapt on the tabby’s back and battered the enemy warrior’s spine with his hind claws.

Blackmoth leaned in close to the warrior’s face.

“Do you yield?” She hissed.

Before the tom could answer, Dawnheart was suddenly knocked sideways off of his perch. He tumbled over in the snow, dazed. He looked up to see that the spotted she-cat had recovered and had come to her Clanmate’s aid. She was slashing at Blackmoth and together the WillowClan cats were driving the black warrior back.

Dawnheart scrambled to his feet and sped forward to help. He used his slimmer frame to his advantage and slipped underneath the tom’s belly. Before his enemy could react, Dawnheart lurched upward with his spine. The tom gasped as he was launched off the ground.

Blackmoth took the opening and landed a nasty blow across the WillowClan she-cat’s forelegs. The she-cat screamed in pain and backed away. Her Clanmate struggled to his paws and fled. The she-cat gave the CedarClan warriors one last hateful look and chased after him.

Blackmoth turned to Dawnheart, her eyes glowing.

“Just like old times.” She purred. Dawnheart flicked his tail across her flank.

“Thanks.” He puffed.

“I have a promise to keep.” Blackmoth said. Her gaze grew intense. They held eye contact for half a heartbeat before Blackmoth turned away. Without another word she leapt straight into a fight between Falconstorm and two WillowClan toms.

Dawnheart whirled around, confident that his Clanmates could handle themselves. He scanned the crowd of battling cats. As he had been fighting, the battle had moved closer to the river. The surprise attack by Blizzardstar and the late arrival of the WillowClan warriors had allowed CedarClan to force the invaders down the slope.

Dawnheart spotted Hawkpaw fighting alone near the edge of the main fight. Dawnheart sped down the slope and arrived just as Hawkpaw’s assailant reared up for a heavy blow. Dawnheart shot forward and slammed into the black WillowClan tom, unbalancing him. Hawkpaw reacted almost instantly and lunged for the black tom’s exposed belly.

The tom screeched as Hawkpaw attacked. The black warrior twisted midair and pulled out of Hawkpaw’s reach. When the WillowClan warrior landed and stared down his enemies Dawnheart felt a jolt of recognition. The tom seemed to have the same realization. His yellow eyes stretched wide and his mouth curled in a terrible snarl.

“ _You_.” Yarrowfang spat. He lunged. Dawnheart dodged to the side and rolled in the snow. Hawkpaw hooked his claws in Yarrowfang’s pelt as the black warrior struggled to retain his balance. With a mighty heave, Hawkpaw dragged Yarrowfang down to the ground. The tabby apprentice planted his large paws on the WillowClan warrior’s shoulders and pressed down.

Yarrowfang screeched and scrabbled at the frozen soil. He was still staring at Dawnheart with hatred in his yellow eyes. He hardly flinched as Hawkpaw began raking his spine with exposed claws. Blood began welling in the deep gouges Hawkpaw’s claws left.

Dawnheart stared, frozen. Yarrowfang stared back, his eyes bloodshot.

“Enough!” Dawnheart yowled. Hawkpaw immediately jumped off Yarrowfang’s back. The apprentice’s paws stained the snow red.

Yarrowfang laid still for a terrifying moment. Then he heaved himself to his paws and turned away from the battle. His tail hung low in the snow and blood dripped down his legs, matting his fur. Dawnheart watched him go, shaken.

“Thank you.” Hawkpaw said. He nodded at his Clanmate before leaping away. Dawnheart watched him go, still rattled by Yarrowfang. He gave himself a shake and looked around for his next fight. A sudden yowl caught his attention.

“Dawnheart, here!”

Dawnheart turned to see Kestrelfeather being chased by two WillowClan warriors. Dawnheart leapt into action and ran to his Clanmate’s aid.

The pursuers were forcing Kestrelfeather down the bank and close to the river. He would be cornered soon.

Dawnheart spotted a boulder jutting out over the bank and veered over to it. He scrabbled up the cold gray surface and, without a second thought, launched himself over the edge. He hung in the frigid night air for a heartbeat before he came crashing down directly on top of one of the WillowClan warriors.

The tom’s screech turned to a muffled grunt as he was slammed to the ground. Dawnheart dug his claws into his quarry’s black shoulder fur and pitched his weight forward. He used the momentum of his leap to roll forwards head over tail, dragging the warrior with him. They tumbled a tail-length or so before coming to a halt on the pebbly riverside. They struggled for a moment before Dawnheart managed to regain his advantage. He planted firm paws on the enemy warrior’s chest and looked up to see if Kestrelfeather was ok.

The other WillowClan warrior had whirled to help her Clanmate but slipped on the icy stones. Kestrelfeather saw the opening and dashed forwards, swiping at the she-cat and driving her back up the bank.

Dawnheart’s catch wriggled under his brown paws He looked down, ready to deliver a blow that would send this foe running, but for the second time he found himself looking into a familiar face. A cold claw of ice pierced his heart.

“Wingshadow?” Dawnheart panted. The black tom looked terrible. His yellow eyes were dim with exhaustion and his muzzle was crusted with dried snot. His chest rose faintly under the CedarClan warrior’s weight but Dawnheart could still hear a familiar wheeze.

He looked up at Dawnheart with wide-eyed horror. “I’m sorry.” The black warrior choked out. “I didn’t mean for her to die!”

A loud buzzing filled Dawnheart’s ears as he stared down at the cat responsible for Spottedfur’s death. Wingshadow was at his mercy. Nothing but Dawnheart’s own desperate conscious separated his claws from Wingshadow’s blood.

Dawnheart’s breath came heavily. Grief and anger raged inside of him, forming a tight knot that burned with every breath. His vision went blurry. His claws dug into Wingshadow’s pelt. The black tom flinched and drew in a rattling gasp.

Dawnheart blinked. He thought of Frayclaw. He couldn’t harm a cat in this condition. It wasn’t honorable. Dawnheart closed his eyes as a wave of grief crashed over him, extinguishing his rage. Spottedfur would want him to make the right choice. She had raised him better than this. 

Dawnheart looked down at Wingshadow’s fatigued and terrified face and stepped back, releasing him.

Wingshadow scrambled to his paws and stared at the Dawnheart. The CedarClan warrior gestured with his tail towards the river.

“Go.” He hissed.

Without a word, Wingshadow turned tail and raced away. Dawnheart watched him go. His breath caught on sharp sorrow. He clamped his jaws shut, fighting the urge to yowl to the stars.

He forced himself to look towards the battle again. Now that he was looking for it, he could see that most if not all of the WillowClan cats shared Wingshadow’s sickly air. Everywhere CedarClan cats were driving back the wheezing, struggling crowd of enemy warriors.

A sudden weight slammed into Dawnheart from behind. His breath was driven from his lungs as he was smashed to the frozen ground. He coughed and struggled, but his assailant was too heavy.

Teeth pierced Dawnheart’s scruff and he was dragged backwards. He screeched and swiped his paws through the air around his head but his claws only snagged at fur. Adrenaline shot like fire through Dawnheart’s veins. He scrabbled at the ground with his hind legs and twisted wildly against his attacker’s grip, but he couldn’t break free.

The unknown cat heaved with remarkable strength and tossed Dawnheart to the side. Dawnheart landed awkwardly and rolled across the frozen bank. Grit and ice dragged at his pelt and paws. He finally found a paw-hold and staggered to his feet, dazed but ready to fight back. He had to defend himself, he-

_Slatefoot?_

The gray and black tabby loomed over his Clanmate. Slatefoot’s pale green eyes were alight with triumph.

“Traitor!” He hissed. He took a step towards Dawnheart.

Dawnheart backed up and felt a paw slip into the shockingly cold river. He looked up at Slatefoot’s hateful gaze and tried to stammer a defense but only disjointed sounds came out. His mind reeled. Slatefoot was his Clanmate! He would never-

“I warned you.” Slatefoot growled, taking a menacing step forward. He drew back his lips to reveal long, cruel fangs. “You should have listened.”


	19. Alder

Heronpaw woke to the sound of heated voices. He was confused for a moment. This wasn’t his nest, nor was it his den. The scents were all wrong. He opened his eyes and immediately closed them again when a beam of sunlight hit his face.

“Plumleaf wasn’t going to do what needed to be done.”

That was Petalpaw’s voice.

“So you decided _you_ were going to do it?”

Whose voice was that? Heronpaw’s mind raced. Then it all came back to him. He was in the AlderClan medicine den. He and Petalpaw had gone to the Moontree and…

His eyes shot open. The catmint. The Clan!

Heronpaw opened his eyes and sat up, still dazed from sleep. Petalpaw and Finchfoot were in the corner of the den. Petalpaw was facing away from her Clanmate but he could see that her shoulders were stiff and her tail was flicking back and forth. The AlderClan medicine cat was sitting, rather relaxed, across from the agitated apprentice.

“Her judgement was clouded. Her littermate is sick.” Petalpaw argued.

Finchfoot scoffed.

“You really think Plumleaf of all cats would let feelings cloud her judgement?” He said.

“You haven’t seen her. She’s a mess.” Petalpaw shot back.

“I’ve known her for _seasons_. She isn’t some delicate flower.” Finchfoot said, rolling his eyes.

Heronpaw felt a tickle of thirst. He tried to ignore it but a cough jumped against the back of his throat. After a moment the cough broke free.

Petalpaw whipped around. Her eyes softened when she saw him.

“Good you’re awake. We need to get out of here.” She said brusquely.

“I told you, Eaglestar hasn’t decided yet.” Finchfoot said. His tail flicked once and his voice had lost a little of the amused tone he had adopted while talking to Petalpaw.

“And I told _you_ ,” Petalpaw whirled to face the AlderClan medicine cat, “…that he has no right to keep us here.”

The two medicine cats stood facing each other, fur bristling, for a heartbeat.

“Can we talk to Eaglestar ourselves?” Heronpaw said.

The others turned to look at him. Heronpaw stood up.

“Petalpaw already tried the ‘I’m a medicine cat’ bit on him. It didn’t work.” Finchfoot said. He lifted one side of his lip in a lopsided snarl.

Heronpaw ignored him and instead focused his gaze on Petalpaw.

“We have to tell him the truth. Eaglestar is reasonable, he’ll let us go.” He said to her.

Petalpaw’s eyes grew round with fear.

“He’s still a rival Clan leader.” She said.

“You told Finchfoot.” Heronpaw pointed out.

“That was between medicine cats. Finchfoot won’t share a secret like that.” Petalpaw said. She dropped her gaze to her paws.

Heronpaw stepped forward and put his nose close to hers.

“Think of Morningpaw. Think of the kits. They need you.” He said into her ear. He drew back and looked into Petalpaw’s worried green eyes. She gave a shaky nod.

“Okay.” Her mew was firm. She turned back to Finchfoot. “We’d like to speak to Eaglestar.”

Finchfoot fixed her with an annoyed glare but he stood up nonetheless.

“Come with me.” He said.

Petalpaw and Heronpaw exchanged a quick glance. Heronpaw nodded at her and they followed after the AlderClan cat.

Heronpaw let Petalpaw go ahead of him. She ducked under a hanging screen of dried bracken and out into the camp. Heronpaw followed her.

The AlderClan camp was strange to Heronpaw’s eyes. The ground was clear of snow like in CedarClan but instead of soft brown dirt there was lichen covered stone underpaw. Tall gray stone walls like the ones at the Moontree pond ringed a small clearing on three sides. The dawn-wards side tumbled into a short but wide rock-fall. Tall, thin pine trees rose up behind the rocks and shaded the clearing from the morning sun.

Several dens were tucked away in cracks or holes in the rock. Finchfoot’s den was behind a boulder, sheltered from the elements by carefully weaved strands of plant life.

All about the clearing were cats. They lounged in patches of sunlight, gathered around a fresh-kill pile, and chatted with each other. As Heronpaw watched a patrol of cats formed from the scattered groups around the clearing. They padded across the gray stone and climbed up the rock-fall at the far end of the camp. They hopped over it and disappeared over the other side.

As Finchfoot led the apprentices across the clearing the AlderClan cats stared and muttered. Heronpaw felt the heat of their eyes burning into his pelt as he walked. Three kits tumbled out the mouth of a sandy cave that was low to the ground. They stared as the CedarClan cats walked by, their eyes huge and curious.

Several younger looking cats, probably apprentices, openly stared at Heronpaw as he walked by. The smallest, a white tom with black paws, even had his jaws hanging open.

Finchfoot made his way along the stone wall to where a scrubby alder tree stuck out from a crack in the rocks. Petalpaw and Heronpaw hurried after him. The yellow tom leapt up onto the horizontal trunk and steadied himself with his long tail. He jumped again to a ledge above the tree. He turned and gestured to the apprentices.

Petalpaw glanced at Heronpaw. He shrugged. Petalpaw jumped up after Finchfoot. She teetered on the trunk for a heartbeat before regaining her balance and making it up to the ledge. Heronpaw followed without much trouble.

Once they were on the ledge they faced a small entrance to a cave they hadn’t been able to see before. Finchfoot stuck his head into the space.

“Eaglestar. The CedarClan cats wish to speak to you.” He called into the gloom.

There was a moment of silence. Then a deep voice echoed from the cave mouth.

“Come in.”

Finchfoot stood back and gestured with his head at the mouth of the den. Heronpaw pressed his pelt against Petalpaw’s flank. Together they ducked down and entered.

The cave was shallower than it seemed. Once they were inside and his eyes adjusted to the dim light Heronpaw could see that the space widened out into a rounded den. The walls were smooth and the floor was sandy. At the center of the den, resting calmly in a nest of moss and bracken, was Eaglestar.

The golden tabby was sitting with his eyes half closed and the remains of a bird at his paws. His whiskers twitched as his visitors entered the cave but he did not speak.

Once Finchfoot had entered, Heronpaw sat down. Petalpaw sat beside him. Their pelts brushed. Finchfoot settled down as well and cleared his throat.

Eaglestar opened his dark brown eyes and focused them on the apprentices. Heronpaw felt small under the regal cat’s gaze.

“Well?” He said. His voice wasn’t angry or accusatory but Heronpaw still felt like he was being scrutinized.

“We need to go back to our Clan.” Petalpaw said.

Eaglestar nodded slightly. “As you’ve said.”

“I wasn’t completely forthright with you before, Eaglestar. It is imperative that we are allowed to get back to our Clan as fast as possible.” Petalpaw said. She dipped her head to the AlderClan leader. He eyed her.

“Big words for a she-cat so small.” Eaglestar purred.

“She’s not small!” Heronpaw interrupted, incensed. Finchfoot made a strangled sound in the corner. Petalpaw shot her Clanmate a look. Eaglestar, however, purred louder.

“When she came to see me before she was not quite so courteous.” He said, whiskers twitching in amusement.

Heronpaw flashed a look at his companion. She avoided his gaze.

“Despite your need, you still trespassed on my territory and endangered my warriors.” Eaglestar’s voice dropped to seriousness. “What am I supposed to do?”

Petalpaw squared her shoulders.

“I received an urgent message from StarClan that I need to take home.” She said.

Eaglestar’s eyes widened. “Oh?”

Petalpaw cast a sideways look at Heronpaw. He gave her a small nod.

“There is greencough in our camp, Eaglestar.” Heronpaw said. Eaglestar turned his dark brown gaze to the black and gray tom.

“Our supply of catmint was destroyed in the early frost. We came to the Moontree to seek StarClan’s guidance in where we might find more.” Heronpaw continued.

Eaglestar sat up. His calm expression was replaced by one of concern.

“Did you get an answer?” He demanded.

“Yes. That’s why we need to home.” Petalpaw said.

“Finchfoot, did you know about this?” Eaglestar shot at his medicine cat.

“It was told to me in medicine cat confidence.” Finchfoot said. “Don’t worry, I’ve kept them away from my other patients.” He added.

Heronpaw was confused. Other patients? But the medicine den was empty.

Eaglestar nodded. His eyes were narrow and thoughtful.

“You may leave.” He said after a few heartbeats.

Heronpaw pricked his ears and straightened up.

“R-really?” Petalpaw stammered. Her strong front was shattered by surprise.

Eaglestar stood up.

“Fetch Riverwhisper.” He ordered Finchfoot. The medicine cat dipped his head to his leader and slipped out of the cave. “You will be escorted off the territory as soon as possible.” Eaglestar continued. He gestured for the apprentices to leave the den ahead of him.

Heronpaw and Petalpaw scurried through the mouth of the cave and back into the leaf-bare sunlight. They took turns leaping down to the tree and onto the ground. Eaglestar thumped to the stone behind them. He padded forward to meet a gray tabby she-cat who was bounding across the clearing.

“Gather a patrol. Escort the apprentices to the PineClan border.” Eaglestar muttered into her ear. The she-cat nodded and moved away.

“Excuse me, Eaglestar.” Petalpaw piped up. The leader turned. “That way is much further for us. Can we be taken to the WillowClan border instead?” She said.

To Heronpaw’s surprise, Eaglestar shook his head.

“PineClan is closer.” He said. “That is where we will take you.”

Eaglestar turned away. Heronpaw took a step forward.

“Thank you, Eaglestar. CedarClan will owe you a debt.” He said. Eaglestar looked over his shoulder.

“I doubt the word of an apprentice carries much weight.” He said. Heronpaw flattened his ears. He opened his mouth to reply but Eaglestar carried on. His eyes turned hard.

“I’m not doing this for your Clan. I’m doing it for mine. We have no sickness here. We can’t risk having infected guests.” Eaglestar lingered on the word ‘guests’ before turning away again and padding off. Heronpaw glared after him.

“He thinks we’re diseased.” He growled.

Petalpaw shook her head.

“It doesn’t matter. He’s letting us go.” She said.

They waited at the edge of the clearing until the silver she-cat returned carrying two mice. She laid them down at the apprentice’s paws.

“Eat.” She said, gesturing to the fresh-kill with her tail.

Petalpaw and Heronpaw looked at the mice, hesitant.

“Don’t worry, we have plenty.” The she-cat said, her blue eyes sparkling. She padded away and began directing a group of apprentices.

“That must be Riverwhisper, the new deputy.” Petalpaw said. She looked down at the fresh-kill at her paws. Her eyes were shining with hunger. Petalpaw exchanged a look with Heronpaw. He shrugged.

“If they’re offering we might as well.” Heronpaw said. He settled down and began to eat. After a heartbeat, Petalpaw joined him.

When they had finished eating Riverwhisper returned. Two warriors and their apprentices followed close behind her. Heronpaw recognized one as the warrior who had found him in the tree. Finchfoot had called him Nighthawk.

A young white tom with black paws, an apprentice, followed behind the black warrior. Heronpaw recognized him from being stared at earlier. The apprentice looked at the CedarClan apprentices with nervous amber eyes. The other warrior was a long legged tabby she-cat. Her narrow face was upturned and she looked down at Heronpaw with narrowed blue eyes. A ginger tom stood at her side. A sneer crossed his face as he caught Heronpaw’s eye.

“These cats will escort you to the PineClan border.” Riverwhisper said.

Heronpaw stood up and faced the ginger apprentice, fixing him with a glare. The apprentice glared back. Petalpaw stood up next to Heronpaw and dipped her head to the AlderClan deputy.

“Thank you for taking care of us.” Petalpaw said. Heronpaw hastily copied his Clanmate’s respectful gesture. Riverwhisper nodded to them.

“May StarClan be with you.” She said. Then she padded away.

“Let’s go.” Nighthawk said. “Coalpaw and I will take the lead. You two can follow us,” he gestured to the CedarClan cats with his tail, “-and Skyclaw and Hornedpaw will bring up the rear.”

The black warrior turned and took off across the clearing. His small apprentice jumped and followed after his mentor.

“Get a move on.” Skyclaw grunted at the apprentices. Her apprentice stood beside her with that same infuriating look on his face.

“Yeah get a move on.” He said. Heronpaw glared at him but followed after Nighthawk.

The patrol crossed the clearing until they reached the foot of the short rock-fall Heronpaw had seen earlier. Nighthawk paused to make sure every cat was following before climbing the pile and disappearing over the top, Coalpaw scrambling up at his side.

Heronpaw clambered up the short fall of lichen covered gray rock. Petalpaw followed behind. When they reached the top Heronpaw looked back over his shoulder at the AlderClan camp.

The kits from earlier were playing in a sunny patch in the center of the clearing. Shambling elders had emerged from their den and were spreading out over a flat rock in a corner. Finchfoot was escorting a group of cats back to his den. One warrior was limping heavily and an apprentice was leaning on Finchfoot’s shoulder.

Heronpaw blinked and turned away from the scene. AlderClan was thriving and free of sickness. Heronpaw thought of his own Clan; hungry, ill, afraid. His paws flooded with energy and his muscles tensed. They needed to get home.

Heronpaw leapt down from the rock-fall and onto soft, pine-needle strewn ground. He looked around. The forest here was sparse. Thin pine trees and short, shrub-like alder trees were scattered across the snowy, rocky soil. Moss and lichen stained boulders lay here and there among the shadows. Snow lay atop them like fluffy pelts.

Nighthawk led the patrol to the left. The cats descended into what Heronpaw thought must be a dried riverbed. The path was heavily trafficked. Paw prints dimpled the ground where the snow had been cleared away. The riverbed ran alongside the outside of the rock walls that hid the AlderClan camp from prying eyes.

The journey was a mostly silent one. Nighthawk bent to murmur things in his apprentice’s ear from time to time. Coalpaw nodded earnestly. Every once in a while the young apprentice glanced back at Heronpaw. He looked away quickly every time Heronpaw met his eye.

The silence of the cats behind him and the constant glances from the cat in front of him unnerved Heronpaw. He could feel breath on his haunches. He wanted to whirl around and tell them to back off but he thought better of it.

The sun had risen slightly by the time the group exited the trees and emerged onto a snow-covered rocky shelf. Heronpaw blinked in the sudden bright sunlight. He let his eyes adjust before looking out over the landscape.

The lake looked much closer than it had been the night he had seen it from the mountain. It sparkled and shone in the morning light. The surface reflected the clear blue of the sky overhead. Heronpaw fluffed his fur out against the chill breeze that rushed up the slope from the water. He took a breath. He could smell cedar trees, ferns, and bracken on that breeze.

The cats began the climb down the hill. The AlderClan cats jumped from rock to rock with ease and grace. Heronpaw and Petalpaw had a harder time of it. Heronpaw tried to do his best to put on a confident front while he knew the haughty AlderClan apprentice was watching.

Heronpaw stood atop a boulder and fixed his eyes on the rocks below. He found a good landing spot and crouched. Before he leapt he cast a glance behind him to see Hornedpaw standing just behind him. The apprentice’s brown eyes were narrowed.

“Go on, forest cat.” He sneered.

Heronpaw turned away, fuming. He jumped without readying himself and felt a paw slip out from under him. He fell through the air, turning as he tried to save the leap. He landed awkwardly. Three paws hit solid rock but one hind leg skidded off the rough side. His stomach lurched as he scrambled to stay on the stone. After a moment he had regained his balance and pulled himself up. He heard a snort from behind him.

Hornedpaw landed on the boulder beside Heronpaw. He looked down at the CedarClan apprentice and drew his lips back in a snarl.

“Nice landing.” He hissed. The apprentice leapt off his perch. Heronpaw scrambled to his paws and made to leap after Hornedpaw. Skyclaw landed beside him before he could.

“Focus on one spot before you leap.” She said quietly as she gathered herself for the next jump. “Your paws know what to do.” She looked over and nodded to Heronpaw.

He glanced at her and hesitated. Then he turned his yellow eyes on the rocks below. The distance was dizzying for a moment but he did as Skyclaw suggested and focused on one spot. Then he leapt.

His paws landed heavily but surely. Heronpaw felt a rush of satisfaction. He looked up and caught Hornedpaw watching him with a sour expression. Heronpaw straightened up and tried to look nonchalant. He looked away from the ginger tom and caught Petalpaw’s eye. She was balancing on a fallen log a tail-length away. She cocked her head and her green eyes glittered. He shrugged and made ready for his next jump.

This one he landed perfectly. He straightened up, ready to flash Hornedpaw a smug look, but instead he caught Coalpaw’s eye.

The young white tom was watching Heronpaw with nothing short of admiration shining in his amber eyes. Heronpaw flattened his ears and tried to play it off. Inside, he felt his paws lighten under Coalpaw’s impressed gaze.

It was past sunhigh by the time the patrol made it down the rocky hill and entered a more shaded part of AlderClan territory. This forest was more familiar to Heronpaw. There were taller trees and more undergrowth here. He was relieved that they were out of direct sunlight and under a thicker canopy. He let himself relax.

He could tell that the AlderClan cats didn’t come to this part of their territory that often. They seemed on edge, with ears pricked and tails twitching. Heronpaw felt a twinge of amusement at Hornedpaw’s sudden lack of confidence. The apprentice jumped at every sound and almost tripped several times.

Heronpaw turned to Petalpaw, who was walking beside him.

“He’s not so confident now that there’s more trees.” He purred as they passed into a small, snowy clearing. “Maybe I should offer him some tips?”

Coalpaw glanced over his shoulder from where he was walking side-by-side with Nighthawk at the head of the patrol. Nighthawk shot his apprentice a look.

The younger tom slowed his gait until he was padding alongside Heronpaw.

“Could I have some tips?” Coalpaw said. His mew shook slightly. 

Heronpaw blinked, surprised. “Sure.”

Coalpaw looked at him expectantly. Heronpaw drew a complete blank.

“Why don’t you tell him how _not_ to fall in a river?” Petalpaw mewed wryly.

Heronpaw shot her a look, but Coalpaw wasn’t deterred.

“Can you tell me about the cougar?” His voice had steadied.

“ _I_ can tell you about cougars, Coalpaw.” Hornedpaw drawled from behind them.

Coalpaw didn’t take his eyes off of Heronpaw. “You were chased by one, right?”

Heronpaw’s ears got warm. “Yeah.”

Coalpaw’s eyes grew round. “That’s amazing.” He breathed.

Heronpaw heard Hornedpaw make a loud ‘tch’ sound. Satisfaction spurred Heronpaw forward.

“It was dangerous,” He said, trying to sound wise and humble. “But Petalpaw needed my help.”

Coalpaw watched Heronpaw, mesmerized, as the older apprentice regaled him with the story of the cougar. Hornedpaw made a variety of disbelieving noises from just behind them as Heronpaw spoke, but that just drove Heronpaw forward.

Coalpaw listened with silent awe. Heronpaw was faintly impressed that the young tom could manage to walk through the forest while keeping his eyes fixed on his companion’s face the entire time.

The story even seemed to reach Nighthawk. One of the warrior’s black ears had swiveled around and stayed that way as Heronpaw spoke.

“I heard the cougar’s scream from just behind me.” Heronpaw said with relish. “I thought I could feel its breath on my heels and then-“

He was cut off by a flash of russet fur speeding across his line of sight. He stopped dead. Skyclaw bumped into his hindquarters.

Coalpaw slowed to a stop and tipped his head to the side. “Wha-?”

“Fox!” Nighthawk hissed from ahead. The whole patrol halted. Nighthawk flicked his tail and the AlderClan cats jumped into action. They spread out around their charges with their claws out and facing the forest. Heronpaw whirled around, ready to help.

“Stay back.” Nighthawk hissed. Heronpaw flexed his claws angrily.

“I can fight.” He said, lashing his tail.

“Shut up.” The black warrior shot over his shoulder. Then to his apprentice he muttered, “Stay behind me.”

Coalpaw stared forward, unseeing, with horrified eyes.

“He’s practically a kit! Let me fight instead.” Heronpaw argued. He shoved his way forward so he was standing next to Nighthawk. He was almost shoulder to shoulder with the AlderClan cat.

“I said shut up.” Nighthawk growled.

A high pitched, rough bark ripped through the air. The cats tensed as a large male fox slipped out of the bracken ahead. Its muzzle was scarred with claw marks and its eyes were dark with hatred. It raised its muzzle and let out another harsh yelp.

Bracken rustled from behind them. Petalpaw gasped. Skyclaw growled. A second scent, distinct from the first, hit Heronpaw’s nose. He kept his eyes fixed on the dog fox.

“The vixen.” Skyclaw muttered. “Hornedpaw and I will handle her.”

Nighthawk lashed his tail and glanced sideways at Heronpaw. The dog fox followed the black warrior’s movements with its beady eyes. It pulled back its lips and showed long, yellow teeth. 

Then it lunged.

Heronpaw’s mind whirled as the fox came at them. He remembered days fox training with his brothers and Kestrelfeather.

_“Foxes are fierce, but mousebrained. Work together against them.”_

Heronpaw dodged to one side to avoid the fox’s snapping jaws. It stumbled and spun, a deep growl rising in its throat. It lunged again, but Nighthawk intercepted it with a vicious slash to the side of the face. Heronpaw made to help, but paused. He glanced over his shoulder to see Petalpaw’s tabby tail disappearing into a scrubby bush. _She’s safe_. He thought.

Heronpaw redirected his attention to the dog fox. It had seen Coalpaw and was advancing with deadly purpose. The apprentice was standing frozen in place, his eyes wide with terror. Nighthawk was a few paces away, struggling to recover from a fall.

Heronpaw darted forward and grabbed the white tip of the fox’s tail in his teeth. The fox barked in pain and whirled to retaliate. Nighthawk was on his paws again and clawed the fox’s hind legs as it turned. The fox screeched and spun again, enraged.

Heronpaw caught Nighthawks eye and the black warrior nodded. Heronpaw dashed to one side of the fox while Nighthawk got in close to the other. The fox twisted, trying to grasp Heronpaw’s tail in its teeth, but he whipped it out of the way as yellow fangs clacked together.

With the fox unsure who to attack, the cats had the advantage. Heronpaw and Nighthawk took turns darting in close to land blows on the fox’s flank. It flailed, growing increasingly angry as the cats sped out of its reach each time.

A loud screech of pain caused Heronpaw to lose focus for a heartbeat. The dog fox kicked out with a hind paw and caught Heronpaw in the stomach. He stumbled back and collapsed, the air having been driven from his lungs. The fox lunged at Nighthawk with snapping jaws. The black warrior ducked and narrowly avoided getting bitten.

Heronpaw tried to scramble to his paws. His belly ached and breathing in was painful, but he had to get up. He stared wildly around the clearing and saw Skyclaw grappling with the vixen. Hornedpaw lay at her side. Blood stained the snow around his flank.

Heronpaw’s heart jumped into his throat as the vixen managed to sink its teeth into Skyclaw’s shoulder. The tabby she-cat screeched and wrenched herself free. She fell backwards and rolled in the snow. Her body left a smear of red in its wake.

Heronpaw found his footing and dashed across the clearing. He ducked his head and rammed into the vixen’s flank as the fox made to attack Skyclaw. The animal squealed as it was tossed to the side. It tumbled to the ground in a mess of flailing russet paws and tail. Heronpaw rushed to Skyclaw’s side, but she was already struggling to her feet. Blood soaked her shoulder but her eyes were still bright.

Together Heronpaw and the AlderClan warrior took turns raking the vixen’s flanks. It was younger than the male and inexperienced. The fox cried out in distress as it tried to fight back. Eventually Skyclaw got in a nasty swipe at the creature’s eyes. It shrieked and whipped around, fleeing into the trees.

Skyclaw nodded to Heronpaw and made to cross the clearing to help Nighthawk. She took two steps before her left forepaw shook violently and gave out. The warrior slumped to the ground with a grunt of pain.

“Get to Hornedpaw.” Heronpaw told her. He didn’t bother to make sure she agreed before he took off.

Coalpaw had unfrozen and was nimbly dancing out of the dog fox’s reach while Nighthawk slashed at its back legs. Blood sprayed the air and dozens of cuts crisscrossed the fox’s pelt, but, unlike the vixen, the male wasn’t giving up. Its blows became more violent with every new injury and its calls were becoming wild and piercing.

Heronpaw raced to Nighthawk’s side and caught the fox’s attention with a sharp yowl. The creature whirled to face the apprentice. Its eyes were crazed and flecks of blood and spittle sprayed from its gaping jaws. It lurched forward on unsteady paws, teeth snapping. Heronpaw jumped back. His whiskers pulled free from between the fox’s fangs.

Another yowl pierced the air from somewhere Heronpaw couldn’t quite identify. He stumbled back from the fox’s flailing limbs and saw three cats burst from the dead undergrowth and race into the clearing. The newcomers leapt on the fox from all sides and dragged it down to the gritty, kicked up ground.

The fox barked and growled but it was too weak to resist three battle-ready warriors. The AlderClan cats ripped and slashed at the dog fox’s pelt until it gave a final, guttural wail and bucked wildly. The cats hopped off the creature and landed on light paws. The fox turned once in the snow and then took off into the brush. Two of the warriors sped after it. They disappeared within moments.

Heronpaw exhaled a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He looked around and saw that Petalpaw had returned. She was already at Hornedpaw’s side. Skyclaw had dragged herself to her apprentice’s side and was hovering nervously over Petalpaw’s shoulder.

Nighthawk was being helped to his feet by Coalpaw. The little cat had a claw mark on his flank but was otherwise unharmed. He caught Heronpaw’s eye and gave a shaky, but firm, nod. Heronpaw nodded back.

The newcomer was a golden she-cat with white paws. She was talking to Nighthawk and nodding in the direction her Clanmates had gone.

Heronpaw limped over to Petalpaw’s side. The medicine cat was hurriedly packing pawfuls of thick cobwebs onto Hornedpaw’s flank. The apprentice’s eyes were wide open and his breath was shallow. The blood soaked the cobweb through in moments. 

“Is he dying?” Skyclaw said in a hoarse whisper. 

“I’m going to save him.” Petalpaw replied. She shoved her forepaw against the injured cat’s side. To Heronpaw’s horror her paw disappeared _inside_ the apprentice. Petalpaw’s face screwed up in concentration and she leaned in. Hornedpaw’s blood stained her white chest and her legs were soaked up to her elbows. Heronpaw stared at the she-cat with a mixture of awe and terror. 

“I got it!” Petalpaw gasped after a tense moment. She pushed down on Hornedpaw’s blood-soaked flank with her free paw and slowly began to remove the other. Once it was out Petalpaw placed it beside its twin in a flash. 

“What did you do?” Heronpaw asked. Hornedpaw was still bloody and barely breathing but Petalpaw had a gleam of triumph in her green eyes. 

“I stopped his bleeding.” The tabby said matter-of-factly. Heronpaw looked down. Hornedpaw’s ginger fur was still clogged with blood but there was no new flow. The apprentice’s fur had even started to dry into gruesome spikes. 

“Okay.” Heronpaw said. He felt bile rise up his throat at the sight of Hornedpaw’s torn flank. Heronpaw turned away and swallowed hard. He looked over to see Nighthawk, Coalpaw, and the golden warrior approaching.

Heronpaw hurried to meet them. Before he could speak, Nighthawk cut in.

“Thank you for fighting by our side.” He said. To Heronpaw’s surprise the warrior dipped his head. Coalpaw did the same. 

“Of course.” Heronpaw said. He hadn’t thought to do anything else. 

“We cannot spare the warriors to escort you to the border. You’ll need to come back to camp with us.” The golden warrior spoke up. Her mew was light but reserved. Heronpaw felt his stomach lurch. 

“We have to leave.” He said firmly. 

The golden she-cat eyed him and opened her mouth but Nighthawk moved between them and spoke. 

“Daisyspring, we would have died without these apprentices. Surely they’ve earned the right to go home.” The black warrior urged his Clanmate. 

Daisyspring hesitated. “We can’t just let them wander the territory.” She hissed. 

“We can send a patrol out to make certain they’ve gone.” Nighthawk said. 

“I give you my word.” Heronpaw interrupted. The two warriors turned to look at him. “We will leave your territory untouched.” 

The AlderClan cats exchanged a glance and then Daisyspring nodded. 

Heronpaw felt a rush of relief and he turned to tell Petalpaw. The tabby she-cat was still leaning over Hornedpaw’s body. The apprentice’s side rose and fell very faintly. Petalpaw raised her head to look Heronpaw in the eye. What he saw there made his stomach clench. 

“Heronpaw,” She said. “I can’t leave.” 


	20. Black

Adrenaline shot like lightning through Dawnheart’s veins. He looked around wildly for help but Slatefoot had dragged him behind a boulder and out of sight of the main battle. Dawnheart could still hear the screeches and yowls of the fight but he couldn’t see any other cat. He backed up as his Clanmate advanced. 

“Slatefoot, please.” Dawnheart managed to say. He took another step back and stumbled as the rocks under his back paws shifted.

Slatefoot stared him down. His eyes glittered in the moonlight.

“You let that WillowClan warrior go.” The gray tabby said. His voice was cold and low. “He was our enemy and you just let him go.”

“He was sick. He couldn’t fight.” Dawnheart said. Fear pounded in his ears. He had never seen a look like that in any cat’s eyes; alight with fury.  
Slatefoot’s neck fur rose and his eyes widened. His broad face split into a wide snarl. He stepped forward and shoved his face close to Dawnheart’s. The smaller tom shuffled back and landed with a splash on his haunches in the freezing water. He gasped.

“You think that matters?” Slatefoot spat.

Dawnheart flinched and tried to get to his paws but he found that they were shaking too hard.

“You think that you’re special, that you’re above the warrior code?” Slatefoot demanded. The warrior was swinging his head back and forth. His striped tail lashed and his eyes sparked with anger.

Dawnheart shook his head.

“No, I-“ He started.

Slatefoot let out a strangled half yowl and spun around. He jerked his head violently from side to side as he paced along the riverbank. Dawnheart’s stomach lurched as he watched his Clanmate thrash. “Slatefoot-“

Slatefoot twisted around again and leapt without warning. Dawnheart forced his numb paws to move and he scrambled out of the way. Slatefoot splashed down, claws out, where Dawnheart had been a heartbeat before. The gray warrior stumbled and slipped on the slippery stones.

Dawnheart scurried back up the bank, his heart pounding. He turned to see if he was being pursued. Slatefoot was standing motionless in the shallows of the river. Dawnheart took a step back, his paw crunching in the snow.

Slatefoot’s ear twitched. Dawnheart froze. Something was wrong with the gray warrior. His image fuzzed out with a blackness that was barely discernable in the darkness of night. It could only be seen now against the reflective surface of the water. There was something horribly familiar about it.

Slatefoot shook his head abruptly; violently, like he was trying to dispel a troublesome burr.

“The code…the code…” He muttered. His mew was stilted and harsh. Terrified, Dawnheart wanted to run but his paws wouldn’t move. Maybe he could reason his way out of this.

“The code says you can’t hurt me, Slatefoot.” He said quietly. Slatefoot’s head jerked up. His eyes were unnaturally darkened. Dawnheart jumped at the sudden movement.

“Slate…?” The gray tabby sounded as if he was unfamiliar with his own name. He lifted a forepaw and looked down. His eyes widened like he was seeing the water for the first time. Dawnheart’s pulse slowed as he saw the blackness fade from around his Clanmate. Had it been what he thought it was, or was it simply a trick of the light?

Suddenly there was a loud yowl from the battle.

“CedarClan, fall back!”

Shocked, Dawnheart turned towards the sound.

_Fall back? But we were winning!_

He glanced at his Clanmate who was still unmoving. Dawnheart took a step towards the conflict. A nagging thought tugged at his mind. He cringed inwardly and looked back at Slatefoot.

“Slatefoot, our Clanmates need us.” Dawnheart said. Slatefoot flinched and finally looked up. The hatred in his eyes was still sharp but his face had dimmed to an expression of confusion. As he stared at Dawnheart, his neck fur began to rise again. Dawnheart raised his hackles in a defensive position.

“Please. All I want is for CedarClan to be safe.” Dawnheart said. “You have to believe that.”

Slatefoot didn’t respond, but he dropped his gaze to his paws. After a heartbeat the rising sound of chaos from the fight made Dawnheart unable to stand still any longer. He turned and ran. Slatefoot didn’t follow.

Heart pounding and belly wriggling uncomfortably, Dawnheart burst out from behind the boulder and back into the fray. The battle’s tide had indeed turned. CedarClan was being driven back towards the shadowy tree line. The cats scrambled to form a line of defense against their surging enemy.

Blizzardstar stood at the center of the faltering line of warriors. Blood spattered the leader’s white pelt and he had a gash across his nose. His strikes were still strong however and as Dawnheart watched, his leader landed a heavy blow that sent a WillowClan warrior flying back into his Clanmates.

Dawnheart skidded to a halt across the churned up snow. His way was blocked by WillowClan reinforcements. There was no way he could fight his way through on his own. Frustrated, he backed up, unwilling to be seen.

Suddenly there was a loud screech and Slatefoot came barreling out from behind the boulder. Dawnheart whirled around, ready to be attacked, but his Clanmate shot past him and launched himself at the nearest WillowClan cat. The warrior had no time to react and was flattened by Slatefoot’s superior weight.

Dawnheart reeled for a moment at the brazen act. Then he realized the chaos it had caused. The WillowClan line had been broken by a single cat and they were falling over themselves like panicking lemmings trying to attack. This was CedarClan’s chance.

“CedarClan, forward!” Blizzardstar bellowed.

Dawnheart flung himself forward and into the fight, a new surge of determination making his paws shake. He landed beside Slatefoot and grasped a tortoiseshell she-cat in his claws. She shrieked and thrashed but Dawnheart had the advantage of surprise and confusion. He pummeled the she-cat’s spine with his back paws until she squealed and shook him off. Dawnheart rolled to his paws as she sped away.

Slatefoot was shaking another WillowClan warrior by the scruff. A ginger tabby was rearing to swipe at Slatefoot in retaliation but Dawnheart was able to dart around his Clanmate to block the blow. The tabby reacted quickly and slashed Dawnheart across the face.

Pain burned through Dawnheart’s cheek and he faltered. Blood splashed into his eyes and he squeezed them shut, yowling. He stumbled, blind, and tried to get away from his attacker. Another heavy blow to his shoulder told him he had been unsuccessful. He fell to the cold ground and raised his forepaws to shield himself from the next blow. The expected attack never came.

Dawnheart rubbed at his eyes furiously until he was able to open them again. What he saw made his heart leap.

Whiteshade had come to intercept Dawnheart’s attacker. The white warrior was pinning the ginger tom to the ground. Slatefoot was grappling with a new opponent. In fact as Dawnheart looked around he saw his Clanmates falling on the WillowClan invaders with renewed vigor.

_Yes!_ He thought.

Dawnheart struggled to his feet, ready to help, but his shoulder screamed in pain. He fell to the side, unable to stand.

“Mouse dung!” He spat. He couldn’t just lie here while his Clanmates fought! He tried to force himself up but his leg was shaking too hard. He slumped back to the ground and stared helplessly towards the fight.

To his surprise his Clanmates were chasing off the WillowClan warriors. Whiteshade was pacing back and forth as Slatefoot headed the ginger warrior off. Excited, Dawnheart looked around. Had the battle been won?

A high pitched shriek pierced the night air.

“ _Blizzardstar!”_

Dawnheart’s heart skipped a beat. Whiteshade whirled around and sped off into the diminishing crowd of cats. Slatefoot skidded to a halt and looked over his bristling shoulder fur. Dawnheart struggled to rise. What was happening?

Dawnheart forced himself to his feet. The pain in his shoulder had dulled and his leg had stopped shaking. He hurriedly limped his way to a small cluster of cats at the center of the clearing. WillowClan warriors were breaking away from the group and fleeing. CedarClan cats were shoving each other aside trying to see what was happening.

Finally Dawnheart drew close enough to see but his line of sight was blocked by a gray tabby WillowClan cat. As Dawnheart drew closer the cat moved aside and Dawnheart stopped dead.

Cougarstar and Owlears, her deputy, were standing over Blizzardstar’s ragged body. His sides were still. Scarlet blood seeped out from under his large head and soaked the snow around him. It was tinged silver in the moonlight.

Dawnheart froze. The freezing air stilled in his chest. _No…_

The chaos was calming and cats were beginning to realize what had happened. Whiteshade shoved his way through the crowd and jumped to his leader’s side. Kestrelfeather was yowling wildly as he tried to reach Blizzardstar but was blocked by several WillowClan cats. Falconstorm and Blackmoth arrived beside Dawnheart, blood-spattered but on their feet.

“What’s happening?” Blackmoth demanded of Dawnheart.

Dawnheart could only gesture weakly. Blackmoth took in the scene and gasped. She stepped back, shocked. Her green eyes rounded with horror.

Dawnheart refocused his gaze on Blizzardstar’s body. Any moment now his flank would rise with breath again as his next life entered him. Any moment.

_There._ He thought with relief as his leader’s white flank shook with a trembling breath. _He’s going to be –_ His thought was cut off as Cougarstar raised a blood soaked paw into the air. Her claws glinted in the light of Silverpelt.

Time slowed down for Dawnheart as he realized what she was about to do. Before he could move, three warriors shot out of the crowd and slammed into the WillowClan leader.

Chaos erupted.

Dawnheart was shoved to the side as cats from both Clans surged forward to protect their own. Blackmoth leapt with a snarl, her claws extended towards Owlears. Dawnheart tried to follow her but his injured shoulder was hit by a passing warrior and fresh pain shot up his leg.

Shrieks and yowls filled the air once again as warriors began to fight again in earnest. Dawnheart tried to see what was happening but the swirling mass of multicolored pelts made it impossible.

“ _Stop!”_ The booming command rose up above the turmoil.

As quickly as the fight had started, it ended. Warriors jumped off one another and stepped back in line with their own. Blood spattered the gritty snow and there wasn’t a cat in sight without wounds. The crowd parted and Dawnheart was able to see again.

Blizzardstar was standing in a pool of his own blood. A ragged wound on his neck still dripped with the thick liquid. His shoulders were sunken and there was a slight unsteadiness to his posture, but his eyes gleamed with strength.

Dawnheart felt another rush of relief.

Until his gaze dropped down to the twisted forms at Blizzardstar’s paws.

Two warriors lay there, still entangled in each other’s claws. More blood was spreading through the snow around them. Their eyes stared sightlessly at the sky. One pair was green. So familiarly green.

“ _No!!!”_ Dawnheart shrieked. He found himself at the side of his former mentor in less than a heartbeat. His shoulder didn’t hurt anymore. He couldn’t feel _anything_ anymore. He stared down at Blackmoth’s ruffled black pelt. It was crisscrossed with wounds that seeped beads of blood. He was dully aware of another cry of anguish from the crowd.

 _Not again. StarClan, please not again!_ Dawnheart thought.

The teeth of the WillowClan deputy were buried in Blackmoth’s neck and the CedarClan warrior’s claws were firmly hooked in her killer’s throat. They had killed each other so suddenly. So easily.

“Owlears!” Cougarstar yowled. Dawnheart looked up to see the WillowClan leader standing over her deputy, no her _sister’s_ , body. Her eyes were wide and horrified. She lunged forward and grasped her littermate’s scruff in her jaws and hauled her body away from Blackmoth’s. The black warrior’s claws were still stuck fast but the strength of Cougarstar’s yank ripped them free. A thick trail of blood and fur followed Owlears’ body. Her tufted ears were coated in it. Dawnheart felt sick.

“You have lost, Cougarstar.” Blizzardstar rumbled, breaking the stunned silence.

The WillowClan leader crouched over her dead deputy and looked up at her rival. Her pale eyes glinted with hatred.

“I will take the life of your deputy as payment for your crimes against my Clan.” Blizzardstar continued. He narrowed his dark eyes. “Now get out.”

Cougarstar lashed her tail.

“WillowClan is not beaten.” She hissed. The WillowClan leader stood up and stared Blizzardstar down. She drew her lips back in a snarl and waved her tail in a dramatic arc. Nothing happened. Blizzardstar flicked an ear.

Cougarstar whipped her head around and stared at her Clan. The WillowClan warriors were standing behind their leader, bloody and exhausted. Many looked on with dull, grief stricken eyes.

“We can still fight!” Cougarstar yowled at her cats. A few extended their claws hesitantly.

“Cougarstar.” A large white tom stepped forward. His amber eyes passed over the body of his deputy and Dawnheart could see the pain there. “Owlears would not want more death. We can still retreat and retain our honor.” He said softly.

Cougarstar’s eyes widened with wild fury.

“Cowards!” she spat. “All of you!”

The silence of the other cats was deafening. Even the CedarClan warriors were looking away from the scene. The WillowClan warriors hung their heads in either shame or exhaustion; Dawnheart couldn’t tell. Blizzardstar stepped forward.

“Fogpelt is wise. Listen to him, and leave with your honor.” He said.

Cougarstar whirled to face the other leader. For a moment Dawnheart was sure she was going to leap at him. Instead the brown she-cat grasped her sister’s scruff and began hauling the body away. Her warriors parted down the middle to let her pass. Once she was clear of them they followed her down the sloped bank. Their tails dragged in the snow and blood smeared the ground in their wake.

“Falconstorm, Talonscore. Follow them and make sure they cross the tree-bridge.” Blizzardstar said quietly. The two warriors nodded and took off, careful to keep their distance.

Dawnheart watched, numb, as the WillowClan invasion simply left CedarClan territory. The fierce battle for land had ended so suddenly. And so bloodily.

He looked down at the body at his paws. Blackmoth’s face was twisted in an angry snarl. Her normally bright and kind eyes were glazed over and gazing at the sky. None of her spark was left. She was gone.

Memories of Spottedfur flooded his mind. If he had been uninjured he could have leapt to his leader’s defense and helped. If he hadn’t let Wingshadow go he could’ve been there to fight and keep the WillowClan warriors back. If he had been a better warrior she would be alive. Both of them would be alive.

“She died a warrior’s death.” Blizzardstar’s mewed from over Dawnheart’s shoulder. His voice shook slightly. Dawnheart looked up at his leader. There was stark grief in the great cat’s eyes. An icy claw of pain stabbed at Dawnheart’s chest. The look on Blizzardstar’s face made the thing so much more real.

Dawnheart closed his eyes and buried his nose into Blackmoth’s pelt. To his horror it was already growing cold. A low groan of grief escaped his jaws. Pain from his wounds washed over him. A ball of fear that he didn’t realize was clenching in his chest released and spread exhaustion through his body.

. . .

Dawnheart limped into camp as the sky began to gray with the approaching sunrise. The rest of the battle patrol streamed into the clearing around him. Feeling hollow, Dawnheart watched as Crowpaw and Talonscore shuffled by. Blackmoth’s limp body hung between them.

The battle worn cats padded slowly to the center of the clearing where the cats left to guard the camp were waiting. Ferntail bounded up to meet her mate and sons. Shadowgrove rushed to Blizzardstar’s side and began speaking to him in a low voice. Dawnheart stopped and watched Blackmoth’s bearers lay her body down in on the snow-cleared ground.

Frayclaw pushed his way through the group. His gray eyes darted from cat to cat until they landed on Dawnheart. The gray warrior’s tail shot up and he bounded over.

“Hey.” He said, breathless. Dawnheart looked up at his friend.

“I keep losing them.” He whispered. “I keep failing and then they die.”

Frayclaw’s eyes widened. He opened his mouth but no sound came out. Only wheezing breath. Dawnheart leaned forward and planted his head on Frayclaw’s chest.

“Don’t die.” Dawnheart murmured.

“I won’t.” Frayclaw said. His voice cracked.

Dawnheart couldn’t help but shake his head. There was no catmint. What if Frayclaw got sicker?

He looked up from Frayclaw’s chest and gazed at his Clan. They were wounded and thin. Half of them weren’t even here in the clearing. They were sick in Plumleaf’s den. And where were Heronpaw and Petalpaw?

What was happening to them?

And what had happened to Slatefoot?

Fearful, Dawnheart withdrew from Frayclaw and looked around. Slatefoot was standing off to the side away from his Clanmates. He was staring at Blackmoth’s body with a subdued look of horror on his face. Plumleaf hurried up to him and he waved her away with a distracted gesture. After a moment he turned and hurried across the camp to the warrior’s den.

“Did something happen?” Frayclaw said. He had followed Dawnheart’s gaze and was watching the warrior’s den entrance with narrowed eyes.

Dawnheart hesitated. If he told Frayclaw what had happened he knew that his friend would want to take the situation into his own paws. There was obviously something wrong with Slatefoot. He didn’t want anycat to jump to conclusions. His mind reeled with fear, exhaustion, and grief.

“I want to be with Blackmoth.” He said. He pushed past Frayclaw and padded slowly towards the body of his former mentor. Frayclaw silently followed like a shadow. Dawnheart fixed his tired gaze on the lump of bloodstained black fur that lay in the center of the clearing. A swath of pale gray fur blocked his sight.

“You need treatment.” Plumleaf said as she approached. Her jaws were stuffed with herbs. Dawnheart slowed to a reluctant stop. He let Plumleaf look him over; all the while watching Blackmoth from over the medicine cat’s shoulder. He hardly felt the sting of the marigold juice and the cooling soothe of the dock pulp on his cuts.

“I want to see that shoulder wound tomorrow.” Plumleaf said as she finished patting cobwebs over the injury. With that she hurried off to the next warrior. Every cat was wounded. The medicine cat had her work cut out for her.

Before Dawnheart could reach Blackmoth there was a loud call from the front of the crowd. Dawnheart turned slowly, feeling increasingly distraught. What now?

Whiteshade was calling for attention while Blizzardstar heaved himself onto his perch. Frayclaw nosed Dawnheart’s flank and he sat down with a soft thump.

“CedarClan is victorious once more.” Blizzardstar began in a hoarse voice. There was a half-hearted cheer among the battle-weathered cats. Dawnheart glanced at Blackmoth’s body.

“I thank you for your courage and your resolve. I also thank Blackmoth for her noble sacrifice. She died a warrior’s death and we honor her.” The large white cat bowed his head and the cats fell silent. After a moment Blizzardstar continued. “Each one of you fought like warriors tonight, even the apprentices. I believe it is time to honor Hawkpaw and Crowpaw with names that reflect this.”

Gasps and murmurs of excitement rippled through the crowd. Every head turned to face the two apprentices and their mentors who sat close to where Dawnheart and Frayclaw were sitting. Hawkpaw was gazing up at his leader with wide eyes but he kept his composure. Crowpaw’s expression was hard to read.

“Come forward.” Blizzardstar commanded.

The littermates rose to their paws. Crowpaw began padding towards his leader but Hawkpaw hesitated.

“Blizzardstar, if I may.” The young tabby called. Every cat fell silent. Crowpaw whirled on his brother. Blizzardstar flicked an ear and Swiftwing’s tail fluffed out. Hawkpaw only had eyes for the CedarClan leader. “I want to wait until all of my Clanmates can be here.” Hawkpaw continued. More murmurs met this pronouncement. The apprentice turned to his brother. “It feels wrong to do this without Heronpaw or Morningpaw.” He said in a quieter voice.

“Heronpaw made his choice.” Crowpaw shot back in a low snarl. Dawnheart was shocked to hear the coldness in the black apprentice’s voice.

“I’m waiting.” Hawkpaw said firmly. He looked back up at Blizzardstar. “May I?” he added, hastily bowing his head.

Blizzardstar considered the apprentice for a moment and then nodded.

“If that is what you wish.” He said.

“I don’t wish that.” Crowpaw said, stepping forward. “The sooner I am a warrior the sooner I can help keep the Clan safe.”

Blizzardstar nodded. “Then come forward.”

The Clan watched in silence as Crowpaw walked up to the front of the crowd. Blizzardstar jumped down from his branch and faced the black tom. Dawnheart listened, worried, as Blizzardstar began the ceremony. What had Crowpaw meant by Heronpaw ‘making a choice’? Did he know where his brother was?

“Crowpaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend your Clan, even at the cost of your life?” Blizzardstar was saying.

“I do.” Crowpaw answered.

Blizzardstar paused and looked down into Crowpaw’s face. Dawnheart couldn’t see Crowpaw’s expression as his back was turned to the Clan.

“Then by the powers of StarClan, I give you your warrior name. Crowpaw, from this moment on you will be known as Crowfrost. StarClan honors your acuity and commitment, and we welcome you as a full warrior of CedarClan.” Blizzardstar finished. He rested his muzzle on the new warrior’s head.

“Crowfrost! Crowfrost!” The Clan began to chant. Crowfrost turned and lifted his muzzle to the sky.

“Blackmoth!” He yowled. The chant changed.

“Crowfrost! Blackmoth!”

Dawnheart felt a rush of appreciation for the new warrior. He had given up some of his own glory to honor his fallen Clanmate. Even if he and Heronpaw had had a falling out, Crowfrost was still a loyal and honorable cat. If he knew where the missing cats were, he would’ve said something surely.

Ferntail rushed up to her son and covered him in licks. Falconstorm followed more slowly but he gave Crowfrost an approving nod. Talonscore limped up to his former apprentice and licked his ear. Hawkpaw didn’t move. He sat next to his mentor and glared at his brother.

Dawnheart briefly considered talking to the apprentice but he really just wanted to sit with Blackmoth. He rose to shaky paws and limped over to her. He sat and began cleaning her pelt. The taste of blood and death was too familiar. He shouldn’t have to be doing this again so soon.

Swiftwing, Blackmoth’s littermate, settled beside Dawnheart. As the Clan meeting broke up, more cats came too. Almost every cat who had seen Blackmoth’s sacrifice came to groom her. Plumleaf and the elders arrived to lick fragrant herbs into her the black warrior’s pelt.

As Dawnheart licked, Frayclaw beside him and his Clanmates all around him, he couldn’t help but feel alone. 


	21. Return

“What do you mean you can’t leave?” Heronpaw said, bewildered. Petalpaw looked up at him, a cold fire of determination in her eyes. Her paws were still pressed down on her patient.

“If I leave now Hornedpaw will die.” She said. Heronpaw looked down at the wounded apprentice. His flank rose faintly and his eyes were squeezed shut. The grizzly wound at his side was packed with cobwebs.

“Can’t his own Clan take care of him?” Heronpaw asked, growing frantic. Petalpaw had to come back. He couldn’t leave her here. They had to go back to save the Clan!

“No.” Petalpaw said firmly. “We’re too far away. He’ll die before Finchfoot can see to him.”

Skyclaw’s ears drew back and her eyes widened.

“I thought you stopped his bleeding.” She said in a tiny voice. The normally calm, confident she-cat looked terrified for her apprentice. Heronpaw’s thoughts fled to his own mentor. Was Kestrelfeather feeling that same fear?

“I did.” Petalpaw grunted as she shifted her straining forelegs slightly. “But if I stop holding pressure it will start again.”

Skyclaw whimpered. Heronpaw grew frustrated.

“CedarClan needs us!” He growled. “Are you really risking their lives for _him_?” The moment the words were out of his mouth he regretted them. Petalpaw raised her eyes to meet his gaze. They smoldered with a dark green anger.

“You think that I don’t know that?” She hissed. Heronpaw took a step back from her sudden fury. “You think that I’m not agonizing over this?”

“Of-of course not.” Heronpaw stammered. “I just-“

“You just don’t understand what it means to be a medicine cat.” The disdain in her voice was shocking. Petalpaw had never spoken to him like this before. What had he done?

“I’m sorry.” He managed to say after a moment. There was a horrible tightness in his chest.

“If you’re sorry, leave. You know the prophecy. You can help.” Petalpaw said without looking at him. Heronpaw’s worries wriggled in his belly.

“What do I tell them?” He said.

“The truth.” Petalpaw replied, still avoiding eye contact.

“When will you come back?”

Petalpaw finally looked up. Her eyes were cold.

“When I’m sure he’ll be okay.” She said.

“I’ll make sure she is well cared for.” Skyclaw added. Heronpaw had forgotten she was even still there. He looked at the AlderClan warrior. She had lost her terror. Her shoulders were squared and she looked Heronpaw in the eye. He could trust this cat.

He thought of his Clan and how they needed him. Petalpaw was right. He had all the information he needed. He could do this on his own. He took a deep breath and steeled himself.

“Okay. I’ll go.” He looked deep into Petalpaw’s green eyes. “May StarClan light your path.”

Her gaze softened slightly.

“And you.” She said quietly. They held eye contact for a heartbeat. Then Heronpaw turned away. He straightened his posture, trying to fool himself into feeling more confident. He strode over to Nighthawk and Daisyspring. Warmth spread to his ears when he realized they had been watching.

“I will be returning alone.” He said to the warriors. Nighthawk dipped his head.

“Very well. Thank you for your help.” He said.

“We will make sure Petalpaw returns to you safely.” Daisyspring added, nodding.

Heronpaw bowed his head to the warriors. “Thank you.” He said. The AlderClan cats stepped to the side to let Heronpaw through. He exhaled through his nose and set out.

The rest of AlderClan territory was thin forests with trees that lost their leaves during the cold moons. The snow on the ground was mixed with leaf litter and a gravelly dirt. His paws were aching from scrambling up and down rough rocks for the past day. His pads longed for the cool touch of CedarClan’s soft dirt.

He made his way along the tree line, always keeping the lake in sight. It was the only landmark he knew and without it he would have no clue how to get home. The sun was drifting down from its sunhigh perch by the time Heronpaw caught scent of a musty, sap-laden smell. PineClan. He had reached the border.

He looked around for some sort of landmark that could act as a natural border. In CedarClan they had the river and the twoleg path to separate their territories from other Clans. Here there seemed to be nothing other than the scent markers.

He paused at the border, wondering if he should wait for a passing patrol. He decided against it, reasoning that the sun-high patrol should have just passed and it would be easy for him to stay out of sight. He gingerly stepped over the scent line.

PineClan territory was much flatter than any other Clan’s. The maples and birches that dotted AlderClan territory soon faded into thicker pine woods. A darkness cast over the ground as Heronpaw entered forest where the trees kept their needles during leaf-bare. The trees caused the snow to form dipped rings around their trunks. The air was still and cold.

Heronpaw kept the lake to his right as he traveled. He could see it peeking through the trees, reflecting the bright sun. The glittering light caused the whole area to feel slightly ethereal.

A sudden sound caused Heronpaw to jump. He quickly dove under a fallen log and waited, heart pounding. A pair of PineClan cats came into view from behind a tree. The lack of undergrowth and the snow had masked the sound of their approaching pawsteps. Heronpaw cursed himself for not realizing that would be an issue here.

“I swear I smelled fox.” A small white she-cat, an apprentice, was saying. The cat that Heronpaw guessed was her mentor, a tall black tom with a white chest and belly, tasted the air. His pale yellow eyes darted around and his neck fur bristled.

Heronpaw’s belly clenched. Another fox? He drew the chill air into his mouth. The scent of fox exploded around him. Panic gripped Heronpaw. Had he accidentally found a fox’s den? He turned awkwardly in the confined space under the log, trying to see. All he saw was his shoulders and back which were stained with blood.

The fox’s blood.

_Idiot!_ Heronpaw thought. He had completely forgotten to rid himself of the pungent residue. Now he reeked of fox and would surely be discovered. His mind raced.

“It smells… _wrong_.” The black and white warrior said after a moment.

“What smells wrong?” A cheerful mew announced the arrival of a third cat; a little cream colored she-cat. She had a mouse in her jaws and was looking around curiously.

“Frostpaw scented a fox.” The black tom said. “I smell it too, but there’s something off.”

The cream she-cat’s eyes widened and she dropped her mouse. Her tail started to bush out and she opened her mouth to taste the air.

“It smells like fox blood.” She concluded after a moment. “And…and Alder, no, CedarClan?”

Heronpaw blinked. This she-cat’s sense of smell was incredible. Her Clanmates didn’t react with shock or awe. Her nose must already be commonplace to them.

Suddenly the black and white tom stiffened and turned his head directly at the log that Heronpaw was hiding under.

“Come out! We know you’re there.” He demanded.

Heronpaw froze. Was he bluffing? No, the warrior was looking right at him through the wood. Besides, the patrol would never leave a place reeking of fox and rival Clans without investigating further. With a deep sigh, Heronpaw called out softly.

“I’m here. I mean no harm.”

The apprentice jumped but the warriors only narrowed their eyes.

Heronpaw slowly dragged himself out from under the log and into the open. The tall warrior looked him up and down.

“Who are you?” he said after a few excruciating heartbeats.

Heronpaw opened his mouth to reply but Frostpaw interrupted.

“I know him, Longshadow! He’s Heronpaw of CedarClan.” She said, her tail shooting up.

“I knew I smelled CedarClan.” The cream she-cat said, her eyes glinting. Longshadow rolled his eyes.

“Yes, we all know your scenting is unparalleled, Littlerose.” He said, a hint of sarcasm tinging his mew. He fixed his eyes on Heronpaw. “You’re one of the missing apprentices, yes?”

Heronpaw nodded. These cats were acting unusually calm despite finding a rival Clan’s cat on their land covered in fox blood.

“Why are you here of all places?” Littlerose interjected. She looked genuinely curious instead of suspicious.

“I, uh,” Heronpaw began but the tall warrior shook his head.

“Does it matter?” He said, twitching his long tail. “Let’s just take him back to camp.” Heronpaw’s heart sank. _Not again_! He thought. He couldn’t afford another detour. He cursed himself again for his short-sightedness.

Littlerose gaped at her Clanmate. “You aren’t curious? He’s covered in fox blood and he came from AlderClan.”

Longshadow rolled his eyes again. “Not particularly.”

Heronpaw was hardly listening anymore. Not after he had spotted the white shape among the trees just behind the patrol. Was that…? Yes, it had to be. She faded in and out of the air like mist as she wove among the trees. She turned her glowing eyes on him and gestured towards CedarClan territory with her head. There was an urgency to her gesture that sent Heronpaw’s belly roiling with anxiety.

“I _know._ ” He hissed between gritted teeth. _I can’t very well run away!_ He thought to himself.

To his astonishment the white cat _nodded_ , like she had understood him. Longshadow and Littlerose were still arguing about what to do with him. Heronpaw cast them a side-long glance.

_Can you distract them?_ He thought, feeling slightly foolish. He was dumbfounded when the white cat nodded again. Then, before Heronpaw could properly react, she raised her muzzle and a piercing, haunting shriek shot through the forest.

The PineClan warriors jumped and whirled around. Frostpaw yowled and crouched to the ground, eyes wild. Heronpaw didn’t think, he just took off.

He ran just as hard as he had when the cougar was hot on his trail. He faintly heard Longshadow howl with shock as he sped away. He weaved through the pines, his heart pounding. Ahead of him, the white cat appeared again and gestured to the right with a frantic wave of her plumy tail. Without thinking Heronpaw veered towards the lake.

He burst out on the bank and found it much easier to run. He picked up the pace and shot along the water’s edge. He could hear the alarm calls from PineClan cats behind him. He paid them no heed. He had to _run_.

Adrenaline carried his paws across the stony bank and towards a familiar tree line. In the near distance he could see the twoleg structure that marked the end of the disused path. He was almost there!

With a final burst of speed that sent his tired muscles into a screaming fury, Heronpaw covered the distance to the border in six heartbeats. He swerved up the shore and scrambled up the hanging bank. He wrenched his paw free from a curling root sticking out of the side and hopped up onto the snow-covered plateau.

His paws skimmed over the wooden twoleg thing and CedarClan’s blessed scent blasted his face. He skidded to a halt and looked back over his shoulder.

Longshadow, Littlerose, and Frostpaw had followed him but they had been too late. Longshadow slowed to an angry pace when he saw that his quarry had gotten away. The tom lashed his long tail and yowled with frustration. Heronpaw felt a rush of satisfaction. He had done it! He turned and headed into the trees.

. . .

Surprisingly, Heronpaw didn’t run into a patrol on his way back to camp. This gave him time to think about what he was going to say, thought he strange encounter with the white cat made that hard. Apparently she could understand his thoughts, respond to them, and make sounds. And what a sound it had been.

The adrenaline rush of the moment had kept him on his paws but if he had been caught completely off-guard he knew that he would’ve been paralyzed with fear. The earsplitting sound had been like nothing he had ever heard before. It was like the wail of a cat in distress mixed with the high pitched, sheering calls of a hawk.

He shivered as he recalled it. He could go the rest of his life without hearing it again. He forced his mind to the task at hand. How was he going to explain himself? What would he say? He remembered what Petalpaw had told him.

_“Tell the truth.”_

It seemed like the best option, but what if the Clan didn’t believe him because Petalpaw wasn’t with him? A small voiced thought occurred to him.

Did he really have to convince the entire Clan? Wouldn’t it be enough if he convinced the one the prophecy was about? Dawnheart was a reasonable cat. Heronpaw felt more confident. If he could persuade Dawnheart, it didn’t matter if the rest of the Clan thought he was completely mad. He purred and shrugged to himself. Maybe he was mad.

As he walked back to camp through the gradually darkening forest he grew nervous. Surely he should’ve run into some Clanmates by now? He was using the most trafficked paths in the territory. He looked down at his paws, hoping to see some paw prints. At his feet lay a thin layer of untouched snow. A shiver ran up Heronpaw’s spine.

He looked behind him. His were the only paw prints that dotted the track between walls of elbow-deep snow. Cold began to seep into Heronpaw’s limbs. He turned and broke into a run.

. . .

The first cat Heronpaw came across was, unfortunately, Falconstorm. The large tabby tom was standing guard at the fern tunnel entrance. He didn’t notice Heronpaw’s approach until he turned. The warrior’s amber eyes widened and he stood up abruptly. Heronpaw slowed to a stop in front of his father. There was a moment of silence while Falconstorm regarded his son. Then he spoke.

“Where is she?” He rasped. Heronpaw’s heart sank.

“I need to speak to Blizzardstar.” He said, squaring his shoulders. Falconstorm narrowed his eyes and took a step towards the apprentice. It took all of Heronpaw’s resolve to stand his ground.

“Is she alive?” Falconstorm said. Heronpaw nodded. “Where?” the warrior demanded.

“I need to speak to Blizzardstar.” Heronpaw repeated. He didn’t have time for this! He shoved his way past Falconstorm. He felt a faint sense of surprise as his shoulder brushed along his father’s. When had Heronpaw grown so tall?

To Heronpaw’s relief, Falconstorm didn’t stop him. The warrior followed closely behind as Heronpaw ducked under the dried bracken and into the camp. The sight that greeted him made him pause. Hardly any cats were in the clearing despite this being the time they ate and talked together. The only cats he could see were his brothers sharing a scrawny bird near the fresh-kill pile and Whiteshade vanishing into the warriors den. He was limping heavily.

“Crowfrost.” Falconstorm called. Heronpaw twitched his ear, confused. Who was Crowfrost?

Then Crowfrost looked up from his meal and Heronpaw eyes widened in realization.

“Relieve me at the entrance.” Falconstorm said. Crowfrost nodded and rose to his paws. Then his eyes fell on Heronpaw. The new warrior’s eyes swept over his brother. Then his neck fur rose. He stalked forward until he was face to face with Heronpaw.

“Where is she?” Crowfrost demanded.

“You’re a warrior.” Was all Heronpaw managed to say. Crowfrost’s blue eyes widened. They burned with a cold fire.

By this point Hawkpaw, if that was still his name, had realized what was going on and had dashed over. He shoved Crowfrost out of the way and touched noses with Heronpaw. His gray eyes were warm instead of icy.

“You’re okay!” Hawkpaw purred. His mew shook with relief. Heronpaw gave his head a little shake. Hawkpaw’s warmth was unexpected but quite welcome.

“Yeah.” He said.

“There’s no time for that.” Crowfrost growled, shoving Hawkpaw aside. He turned his icy gaze back to his other brother. “Where. Is. Petalpaw?” Crowfrost hissed through his clenched jaw.

Heronpaw opened his mouth to angrily retort but Falconstorm cut him off.

“She is coming. Go stand guard.” His tone was final. Crowfrost glared at both his father and Heronpaw before slinking away. Heronpaw watched him go. What had happened to his brother?

“Where have you been?” Hawkpaw pressed. Heronpaw turned to respond when he was yet again interrupted by Falconstorm.

“He needs to speak to Blizzardstar. You can chat later.” The dark warrior set off towards Blizzardstar’s fallen log den. Heronpaw shot Hawkpaw an apologetic look before following.

Falconstorm announced them at the entrance to Blizzardstar’s den. A hoarse croak bid them entrance in response. Heronpaw’s ears pricked at the sound. Was Blizzardstar sick?

Falconstorm stood aside and nodded to the entrance. His eyes were cold, just like Crowfrost’s. Heronpaw dropped his gaze and pushed his way into the den. Falconstorm didn’t follow. Heronpaw stepped gingerly into the dim den. A single hole in the roof of the log allowed the fading light of dusk to filter in. It was barely enough to see by.

“Blizzardstar?” Heronpaw asked hesitantly. A dark mass at the far end of the den shifted. The Clan leader’s head rose from a curled up position. The large tom stretched and sat up. His face and head were cast into relief by the stream of light. Heronpaw gasped.

A ragged wound cut across Blizzardstar’s neck. Its redness shone as a stark contrast to the tom’s white fur. Cobwebs and bits of green herbs were crusted around the length of the slash, and a sickly sweet smell drifted from it. Heronpaw felt bile rising in his throat. He swallowed forcefully.

“Heronpaw, you’re back.” Blizzardstar said in that same raspy voice. His face was a stone wall. There was no way to tell what the great cat was thinking. He stared at Heronpaw expectantly.

“I am.” Heronpaw said lamely. Now that he was here and facing his leader all of his earlier confidence melted away like snow falling into a puddle.

“Are you hurt?” Blizzardstar asked. Heronpaw flexed his leg and paw that had been injured in the fall from the tree. They ached, but otherwise he felt fine. He shook his head. Blizzardstar’s shoulders relaxed a tiny bit.

“Do you know where Petalpaw is?” The white tom asked. Heronpaw nodded. His mouth was dry. Blizzardstar paused like he was waiting for Heronpaw to elaborate. Heronpaw took a deep breath and delved into an explanation. The true explanation.

Blizzardstar listened with the same blank look on his face throughout. Heronpaw left out his visions and the white cat. It was just going to overcomplicate the story and it wasn’t yet important. He paused a few times, trying to gauge Blizzardstar’s reaction. The white tom said nothing each time so Heronpaw was forced to continue.

The only time Blizzardstar reacted was when Heronpaw told him about Petalpaw’s prophecy. His eyes widened slightly but that was it. Heronpaw carried on.

“So I left her with the AlderClan warriors and made my way home to deliver the prophecy.” Heronpaw finished, purposefully leaving out the part about being caught in PineClan territory. He knew that the secret wouldn’t stay that way for long but it seemed like the right thing to do. There was a long silence.

“So you accompanied Petalpaw to the Moontree only out of concern for her safety?” Blizzardstar finally asked. Heronpaw was caught off guard by the question.

“Um, yes.” He stammered. Blizzardstar met Heronpaw’s eyes with a sharp stare.

“Then you left her in the paws of an enemy Clan?”

Heronpaw froze. He suddenly remembered that Petalpaw was Blizzardstar’s daughter. Panic started to fill Heronpaw’s chest.

“She told me to.” He said. His voice had jumped up in pitch. “I had to deliver the prophecy. The Clan needed me-“

“The Clan needed you _here_.” Blizzardstar said. His eyes flashed with the first emotion of the night. Anger. Heronpaw swallowed so hard it hurt.

“WillowClan moved the border.” Blizzardstar continued.

“ _What?_ ” Heronpaw gasped. Blizzardstar ignored his outburst.

“We won the fight, but at the cost of a warrior’s life.”

Heronpaw’s eyes widened and a jolt of shock jumped through his belly like he had eaten a live rabbit. Somecat had _died_? Who?

“We needed every cat’s claws and you weren’t here. We needed both of our medicine cats more than ever and _you weren’t here_.” Blizzardstar’s voice was growing increasingly harsh, though it still had that airy, raspy undertone. “Did you have so little trust in your Clan’s leadership that you thought you needed to take matters into your own paws?”

Heronpaw shrank back from Blizzardstar’s reprimand like a fern shied away from frost.

“I thought-“ He squeaked.

“You did not _think_.” Blizzardstar snarled. Heronpaw was stunned into silence. This was not going the way he had imagined. He had thought he would be chided, yes, but that the main focus of the conversation would be about the prophecy and what to do about it.

Blizzardstar opened his mouth for more angry words but a coughing fit took him instead. Heronpaw watched his leader, the great and immutable Blizzardstar, hacking so violently that his whole body shook. Heronpaw stood up.

“Blizzardstar.” He said when the leader’s coughs had subsided. “Be angry with me if you wish, punish me, hold back my warrior name, but Petalpaw’s prophecy is _real_. We have to find out what it means and find the catmint!”

There was silence following Heronpaw’s brave words. Blizzardstar stared at the apprentice for a good while. The great cat’s tail thrashed back and forth but he said nothing. Finally he narrowed his dark blue eyes and tossed his head in agitation.

“Tell it to me again.” He ordered. Heronpaw’s heart lifted. Progress!

“ _Look to the dawn and follow his heart._ ” He repeated from memory.

“Dawnheart.” Blizzardstar said. Heronpaw began to nod but stopped when he saw his leader’s expression.

“Looking to the dawn could mean the dawn-wards part of the territory, but then what would the ‘heart’ be?” Blizzardstar mused. He fell silent again.

“Shouldn’t we ask Plumleaf?” Heronpaw ventured.

“She is far too busy.” Blizzardstar said with another lash of his tail. The implication was obvious. Plumleaf was overwhelmed by battle injuries and sickness without her apprentice. Heronpaw dropped his gaze to his paws.

“You are not to trouble her with this. I will decide what to do.” Blizzardstar said after another moment of tense silence. Heronpaw looked up sharply.

“But-“

“ _Silence_.” Blizzardstar snapped. Heronpaw obeyed. “Leave me. Report to Kestrelfeather what you have done. I will trust him to deliver your punishment.”

Heronpaw didn’t argue. He bowed his head and scrambled backwards out of the den. His troubled mind whirled as he stepped out into a silent camp.

Blizzardstar was too angry and worried for the Clan. Heronpaw didn’t know for sure if the leader even believed his story. He took a deep breath. If he couldn’t count on Blizzardstar or Plumleaf he had one more chance. Dawnheart.


	22. Eyes

Crowfrost sat at the entrance to the camp, trying and failing to calm himself. Heronpaw had come back _without_ Petalpaw. How stupid could he be? Didn’t he realize how much the Clan _needed_ her? He dug his claws into the frozen ground. He ignored the pain that shot up his paws from the pressure.

Hadn’t _she_ promised that if he did what she asked that his Clan would be safe? Now they were more vulnerable than ever.

“StarClan curse them both.” Crowfrost hissed under his breath.

“That isn’t a very nice thing to say.” A silky smooth voice drifted to his ears from just beyond his vision. He stiffened.

 _Finally._ He thought. He straightened up and fixed his eyes on a spot a few tail-lengths away where the ferns were shifting. Their green fronds parted and a pale gray she-cat slipped into view. Her paws made no sound as they skimmed over patches of moss on the forest floor.

Crowfrost blinked. Green ferns? Moss? 

When had he fallen asleep?

He looked around and found himself in a familiar forest that he knew was not his own. Pale starlight filtered down from the crisscrossed canopy of fully leaved trees. Ferns and bushes littered the soft brown ground and moss was found on every surface. He let his fur lie flat in the suddenly warm night.

“I can’t be asleep on watch.” He said flatly as the she-cat drew nearer. She rolled her green eyes at him and made a soft ‘tch’ sound. She stepped right up to him and brushed her tail along his side.

“You’ll wake if there is a disturbance.” She reassured him. She looked him up and down with her piercing gaze. Crowfrost raised his chin and looked down at her through half-lidded eyes.

“Well now.” She purred. “You’ve become a fine warrior, haven’t you?”

“Just as you promised.” Crowfrost said.

“Just as I promised.” The gray she-cat repeated in a self-satisfied tone. “See? There was nothing to be worried about.”

Crowfrost’s belly lurched at the thought of Blackmoth and Blizzardstar’s lost life. He narrowed his eyes at his companion.

“There were casualties.” He said in a low voice. The she-cat rolled her eyes and tossed her head.

“There are casualties in every battle.” She said. “Isn’t one warrior worth the deputy of a rival Clan?”

“Blizzardstar lost a life.” Crowfrost reminded her. He dropped his gaze to the ground flexed his claws in the soft dirt uncomfortably. A sudden shock of pain shot across his cheek. He jerked to the side with the force of the she-cat’s blow. Her claws were out, glinting in the moonlight. Her eyes smoldered.

“Do _not_ question me.” She snarled. “ _I_ kept my promises.” There was an accusation in her tone.

Crowfrost winced as he felt the claw marks that now scored his cheek. The fur there was wet with blood. Shame burned at his ear tips.

“I tried to stop them.” He said, his confidence melting away with every word. The she-cat let out a harsh, mocking yowl.

“A kit could have done better!” She said, circling around the black warrior.

He felt a surge of frustration and indigence.

“What was I supposed to do? You told me no other cat could know!” he shot back. He flinched back as the gray she-cat lifted her forepaw again as if to strike. After a heartbeat the anger in her eyes softened slightly and she dropped her paw.

“I suppose you’re right.” She said. She turned from him and padded towards a small white flower that was poking out from a moss covered tree stump. She leaned down to sniff it, closing her eyes in apparent appreciation of its scent. Then her eyes flew open and she snapped the head of the flower off in her teeth.

Crowfrost shied away as a singular, ripped white petal drifted to the ground at the she-cat’s feet. She spat out the head of the flower and curled her lips back over her teeth.

“I mean, what harm could have been done by letting the most important cat in the Clan go gallivanting off across multiple enemy territories with a cat who is _insane_?” The she-cat said. She lifted a forepaw and stomped on the lone petal. She twisted her foot, grinding the delicate thing into the ground.

Crowfrost flinched. He remembered when she had shown him the truth about Heronpaw. His twitching, rambling fits in the middle of the night. His paranoia and sudden personality change. He remembered the worst of it; the night after he had confronted his brother about Petalpaw when Crowfrost had witnessed Heronpaw arguing with nothing but thin air.

“I should have tried harder.” He mumbled half to himself.

“Yes.” The reply was terse. There was a long moment of silence during which Crowfrost was forced to wallow in his shame and guilt.

“I will admit…” The she-cat began. Crowfrost lifted his head hopefully. “…that you fought well. I’m relieved to find that Talonscore was able to teach you _something_.” She looked over her shoulder at him. He dropped his gaze back to his paws. He watched her feet approach him and felt her tail touch his chin. He lifted it until he was face to face with her.

Her narrow face and striking eyes made his heart skip a beat.

“I’m proud of you, Crowfrost.” She said. Crowfrost blinked in shock.

“But I failed.” He said after a moment. Her eyes narrowed and she whipped her tail out from under his chin. He winced. He had said the wrong thing. Again.

She closed her eyes and sighed. “I can’t say I picked you for your confidence, or brains.” She opened her eyes and fixed them on his. “You may have failed, but I hope I am right in saying that this failure will drive you to success in the future.”

Crowfrost nodded firmly. He had learned his lesson. She was always right.

“Petalpaw will be okay, right?” He couldn’t help but ask. The she-cat waved her tail dismissively.

“Of course. I wouldn’t risk her this early in your training.” She said. Crowfrost felt a rush of relief at her words. His mistake hadn’t ruined everything as he had feared. The anxiety that had been clouding his mind cleared and another question rose to the surface.

“Am I the only one?” He asked carefully. The she-cat didn’t look up at him. She was too busy examining her claws.

“The only what?” She said flatly.

Crowfrost hesitated, then pushed on.

“The only cat being trained by StarClan.”

She looked up at him and tilted her head. She scrutinized him for a heartbeat.

“No.” Her reply was lofty. “But you won’t be meeting any of them any time soon.”

Crowfrost wanted to ask why but he kept his mouth shut. He glanced down at his paws and shifted them awkwardly. He chanced another glance up at his mentor. She looked over at him from the corner of her eyes. She rolled them again.

“ _What_?” her mew was drawn out with frustration. Crowfrost jumped at the chance.

“What if I need help? If I don’t know who my allies are then-“

“You have no allies.” The she-cat snapped. Her green eyes flashed. “None but me.”

Crowfrost bowed his head and chastised himself inwardly. Was he _trying_ to ruin this? He had been chosen by a StarClan cat for an important mission and all he could manage to do was anger her and question her decisions. He curled his tail under him in a submissive gesture.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled to the ground. He shifted his paws close together and flattened his ears.

“Don’t pout.” The she-cat said. Crowfrost could almost hear her teeth clip the words off as she spoke them. He straightened himself and forced his eyes to meet hers. She looked at him through half-lidded eyes.

“There is one,” she finally said in a soft voice, “that you could call on if you need to.”

Crowfrost’s ears perked up, but he didn’t dare ask another question.

“Slatefoot is loyal to the warrior code. He will help you.” The she-cat continued. She licked a paw and drew it over her silvery ear fur. “He doesn’t know of me or of StarClan but his loyalty will be an asset to you.”

Crowfrost blinked in surprise. He didn’t know much about the gruff warrior. He hadn’t paid Crowfrost or his littermates any attention when they had entered the apprentice’s den. The black and gray tom had paid them even _less_ attention when he had become a warrior. All Crowfrost knew was that Slatefoot was very aggressive and outspoken. If he were to have an ally he was expecting Whiteshade or even Falconstorm, not one of the newest and most volatile warriors.

The disappointment must have shown on his face for the gray she-cat narrowed her eyes at him and her tail twitched. He quickly hitched a contemplative look on his face instead. She twitched an ear but said nothing about his infraction.

“Remember,” she said, taking a step towards him and brushing her tail along his flank, “I chose you. That should be enough.”

Crowfrost shivered at her touch. It made every hair on his pelt stand up. A warrior of StarClan had chosen _him_. She had faith in his ability. It was enough. It had to be.

He stiffened his shoulders and lifted his head.

“It will be.” He said. The she-cat nodded.

“Good,” she purred. She turned and flicked her tail at him as she padded towards the trees. “Come. I’m going to teach you something new tonight.”

. . .

Petalpaw watched Heronpaw’s retreating figure. Her heart jumped into her throat as he disappeared into the snowy undergrowth. What was she _doing_? CedarClan needed her! Plumleaf needed her! Panic began to grip its icy claws around her belly.

Hornedpaw let out a choked moan beneath her. Petalpaw let the fear pass over her head like a wave and refocused her attention on the injured apprentice. His eyes were fluttering open.

“Acornfall?” he croaked.

“Hush now.” Petalpaw mewed, stroking the apprentice’s ginger fur with a bloodstained paw.   
“It’s going to be alright.”

Hornedpaw’s eyelids quivered for a moment before they shut and he let out a sigh. Petalpaw turned to his mentor, Skyclaw, who was sitting at the ginger tom’s head.

“Who is Acornfall?” Petalpaw asked.

“His mother.” Skyclaw said in a hoarse mew.

“Is she back at camp?”

“She’s dead.”

Petalpaw’s stomach lurched. A cat calling for their dead family was never a good sign. Hornedpaw needed to get back to Finchfoot, but how? Petalpaw’s mind raced. The ginger apprentice’s wound was terrible, but the fox hadn’t caused damage to his life vein.

She shivered. If the vessel that brought blood to a cat’s belly was injured there was nothing even the most seasoned medicine cat could do. It was almost worse than if their neck was slashed. StarClan be blessed, that wasn’t the case for Hornedpaw. He was still in danger however.

She thought hard. What had Plumleaf taught her about wounds like this?

_Keep them calm, keep them warm, and immobilize the wound._

Petalpaw sighed, frustrated. Immobilization wasn’t an option right now.

“Skyclaw can you lie next to him? He needs to be kept warm.” Petalpaw said. The warrior obeyed without question.

“How are we going to get him home?” Nighthawk asked as he, his apprentice, and the other warrior approached.

“I don’t think we can.” Petalpaw said after a moment.

“We can’t just leave him.” The golden warrior snorted.

Petalpaw looked up and fixed the she-cat with a glare.

“Of course not,” she said, trying to keep herself from hissing. “But moving him is very dangerous.”

The golden warrior tossed her head as if she didn’t believe Petalpaw. Nighthawk gave his Clanmate a sideways glance.

“You’re the fastest, Daisyspring.” He said. “Why don’t you run back and tell Finchfoot?”

Daisyspring considered this for a heartbeat before nodding and heading off. Petalpaw blinked gratefully at Nighthawk.

“She means well,” The black warrior said, watching his Clanmate speed away. “But I don’t think she’ll be much help.”

“Even so, we needed someone to fetch Finchfoot.” Petalpaw said. Squirming anxiety wriggled in her belly. In the mean time they needed to try something.

“We need to try to move him.” Petalpaw continued. Skyclaw looked up at her with fearful blue eyes. Nighthawk’s tail swished nervously. Coalpaw continued to look like he was going to be sick.

“You said you couldn’t do that.” Skyclaw said. Petalpaw took a deep breath.

“I have a plan.”

A little while later the four cats found themselves standing around the injured apprentice. Petalpaw had packed his wound with a dried wild garlic and marigold poultice and cobwebs and had bound it with a splint. The binding hadn’t been soaked through with blood, so Petalpaw gave the signal to begin.

Each cat gripped a different part of Hornedpaw. Nighthawk grasped the apprentice’s scruff, Skyclaw his haunches, and Coalpaw his back while Petalpaw steadied his flank from beneath. The arrangement was precarious and already a trickle of blood had begun to soak the bandage, but Petalpaw was determined.

Gently the cats moved Hornedpaw a few mouse lengths to where a forked pine branch lay in the disturbed snow. Under Petalpaw’s direction the AlderClan cats laid Hornedpaw down over the branch’s two limbs. They moved him such that his back lay on the fork and his shoulders and hips draped over the spreading branches.

When they were done Petalpaw stood back and examined their work. She had no idea how this was going to work, but she had to keep a confident air for the AlderClan cats’ peace of mind.

“Well done.” She said, examining Hornedpaw’s wound. It had seeped a little but not too much. She found herself genuinely optimistic. This could actually work.

She glanced up at the sky. The sun was making its way down towards dusk. She couldn’t let Hornedpaw be out in the cold at night.

“Let’s move. Just like we discussed.” She ordered. Skyclaw and Nighthawk grasped the end of the branch in their teeth. Coalpaw padded up and began laying swaths of pine needles over Hornedpaw’s flank. Once he was covered to Petalpaw’s satisfaction she took her place at the back of the group so she could keep an eye on her patient. Then she gave the signal to begin.

It was agonizingly slow going. At first the warriors pulled too hard and moved too fast. Petalpaw had to stop them several times to readjust Hornedpaw’s position. The apprentice was still breathing, but shallowly, and any bump in the road could make his wound reopen.

Skyclaw and Nighthawk soon fell into a rhythm that was acceptable to Petalpaw. They dragged the branch along the ground, their necks straining at an awkward angle. Coalpaw danced nervously at his mentor’s side. Petalpaw walked with paw placed on Hornedpaw’s flank so she could feel his wound. The pine needle blanket was keeping him warm, which was good, but more blood was soaking his bandage with each step.

After they had broken the tree line they took a short break so Petalpaw could add more dressing to the wound.

 _Don’t give up on me, Hornedpaw!_ Petalpaw thought as she removed soaked cobwebs and replaced them with fresh ones Coalpaw had gathered.

As if he had heard her, the wounded apprentice’s eyes fluttered open. He tried to lift his head but Petalpaw held him firmly.

“Don’t move.” She instructed.

“What’s going on?” Hornedpaw asked after a moment. His voice was frail and uneven.

“You were injured.” Petalpaw told him in her best calming voice.

“Where’s Finchfoot?”

“He’s coming. For now I’m going to take care of you.” Petalpaw said. The ginger apprentice closed his eyes.

“Alrighty.”

Petalpaw purred.

“Petalpaw!” Nighthawk called from his position atop a small boulder. Petalpaw looked up and followed his gaze up the rocky slopes to where a patrol of no less than five cats were appearing from behind rocks. At their head she spotted a familiar white and yellow pelt.

Relief washed over Petalpaw as she watched the AlderClan cats, led by Finchfoot, scramble down the mountainside towards them.

She looked back down at Hornedpaw.

“You’re going to be alright.” She said to him. Then she turned and looked behind her across the lake. She could see CedarClan’s trees from here, haloed by the fading rays of the sun.

“Please, Heronpaw.” She whispered to the wind. “Save them too.”

. . .

Wingshadow’s eyes and nose streamed in the cold air as he struggled to keep stride with his Clanmates. His chest tightened with every breath and a cough fought to free itself from his aching throat. His Clanmates coughed and groaned around him. They had been beaten. Badly.

Wingshadow himself was still shaken from his encounter with Dawnheart. Real fury had scorched the CedarClan warrior’s kind eyes into hard, unforgiving blue stone. Wingshadow closed his eyes and tried to dispel the horrific memory of Spottedfur’s body going limp beneath him. Somehow Dawnheart had decided to let Wingshadow go. Wingshadow wished he hadn’t.

No cat spoke as the battle patrol followed the beaten path back to camp. They slipped past scraggly willow trees whose branches hung low with the weight of snow. Leafless hawthorn bushes scraped at legs and drooping tails. Wingshadow paused to cough and he soon found himself at the back of the procession.

“Wingshadow?”

He turned to see his Clanmate Breezeflight and his apprentice Splashpaw struggling through the snow. The warrior was anxiously nosing the little apprentice as she wheezed.

“Can you help me with Splashpaw? She’s having trouble breathing.” Breezeflight said without taking his eyes off of his apprentice. The white and gray warrior was limping heavily and he struggled to stand upright.

Wingshadow doubled back to fall in at Splashpaw’s side. The thin she-cat leaned heavily on his side as soon as he got close enough. Her body was shaking and her breaths sounded like the cracking of ice in her chest. Wingshadow looked down at her dull, streaming eyes and felt a stab of anxiety. This apprentice should have never been asked to fight.

Together he and Breezeflight supported Splashpaw between them as they continued across their territory. The dawn that had come brought no new warmth and soon all three were shivering violently.

After a while Wingshadow’s heart leapt as he saw a familiar sight peek into view between the rocks and dead trees. The Great Willow. 

The cats ducked their heads as they slipped beneath the hanging limbs of an old, towering willow tree. Its branches were laden with a coating of snow and they scraped along Wingshadow’s back like a set of frozen claws. The black warrior shivered but he welcomed the feeling. The Great Willow’s touch meant that they were home.

Beneath the tree’s white embrace the cats slowed to a stop. Beyond the curtain of icy tendrils lay a world unseen from the outside. Brown, vine-like branches crisscrossed beneath the willow’s canopy. They varied from thick and straight to thin and twisting, sprouting in and out of the hillock the Great Willow stood upon.

A scrawny fresh-kill pile was the only indication to an outside eye that any cats lived here, but to Wingshadow, born and raised in WillowClan, the signs of his Clanmates were all around him.

The nursery lay just beyond a screen of gnarled willow roots at the base of the barrow. There was the apprentice’s den tucked between two large maple vine branches. He could see the remains of a mouse at the mouth of a twisted mass of branches that hid the Clan’s elders from sight.

Glowing eyes of cats peeked out from behind branches and around sprawling, exposed roots. As Wingshadow’s Clanmates streamed into their camp those who were left behind began emerging from their dens.

Their questions were met with solemn nods from their returning Clanmates. The scent of fear and exhaustion hung low over everycat’s head.

“Thank you.” Breezeflight said. He slowed to a stop and led his apprentice off to the side to sit and rest. Wingshadow watched them go, feeling only a dull sense of disquiet. He knew that Splashpaw should see the medicine cat right away but his own exhaustion and pain was making his thoughts slow and hard to unravel.

Wingshadow caught sight of his friend, Spottedowl, making her way through the crowd to him. Her large eyes were shining with relief.

“You’re okay!” She purred as she slid between two apprentices to reach him. Wingshadow forced out a purr and touched her nose with his own.

“How did it go?” Spottedowl mewed nervously. She began looking over her Clanmates. Her dappled tail drooped and her ears flattened. Any response Wingshadow could’ve mustered up was interrupted by a sudden hush falling over the gathered Clan.

All eyes moved to the entrance where Cougarstar was pushing her way past the Great Willow’s screen of frost-bitten leaves. Her head was down and she struggled as she dragged a limp body alongside her. Wingshadow looked away. Many of his Clanmates did the same. Spottedowl let out a tiny gasp of horror.

The group parted as Cougarstar hauled the lifeless body of her sister and deputy to the center of the camp. The silence was only broken by the wheezing breaths of Wingshadow and the other ill warriors.

Cougarstar began grooming her sister’s fur with long strokes of her wide, flat tongue. The Clan shifted awkwardly, unsure what to do. A Clan leader should call a meeting after a defeat like this. Cougarstar should be reassuring them and seeing to the wounded. Instead she acted like she was completely alone.

“What happened?” Spottedowl breathed into Wingshadow’s ear. He looked over at her horrified green eyes.

“We lost.” He croaked.

“You’re back? Why did no cat- great StarClan!” Minnowflash, the WillowClan medicine cat, pushed her way through the crowd and came to a stop at Owlears’ motionless head. The medicine cat’s reprimand was caught on her tongue and her mouth gaped open for a heartbeat.

Wingshadow’s belly clenched. Was Minnowflash going to fail them, too? His fear was short lived, however, as the small silver she-cat’s eyes steeled and she stood straighter.

“Bring the wounded to my den.” She ordered. The WillowClan cats just stared at her with hollow eyes. Minnowflash hissed in frustration. “Now!”

The battle-dazed cats seemed snap to attention and began shuffling amongst themselves, finding the most wounded. Wingshadow felt a rush of relief to have orders. He started to look around for his Clanmate Lightfoot, who he knew had a nasty gash on one flank.

Instead he came face to face with Spottedowl. She blocked his way and fixed him with a stare.

“I’m bringing you to the medicine den.” She said matter-of-factly. Wingshadow shifted his paws impatiently.

“I’m fine.” He wheezed as another cough crawled up his throat like a roach creeping out from its den. He dropped his head down and hacked. The cough ripped at his throat and seemed to fill his whole chest. By the time it had subsided his eyes were watering afresh and he gasped for air.

“’ _Fine_ ’.” Spottedowl echoed. Wingshadow cursed the bad timing of his fit.

“I’m ill, not injured. I can wait.” He managed to say in between gasps. Spottedowl bared her teeth.

“Help someone else.” Wingshadow hissed before she could argue. He turned and flopped down at the edge of camp so he would at least be out of the way. He lay on his side and tried to catch his breath.

Thankfully, Spottedowl had listened and was helping Lightfoot limp her way to the medicine den. Wingshadow watched as eventually half the Clan was gathered around Minnowflash. She jumped from cat to cat, sending away those who could wait and treating those who couldn’t.

An angry voice from behind Wingshadow caught his attention. He turned his head to see Breezeflight arguing with Splashpaw. Wingshadow stiffened. Arguing was not the right word.

Splashpaw was leaned against a root, her gray tabby chest heaving. Breezeflight raised his voice not in anger, but in fear. His apprentice’s blue eyes were wide and glazed over with panic. As Wingshadow scrambled to his paws, the little she-cat’s chest stopped heaving.

Time slowed down as Wingshadow turned and screamed for Minnowflash. He could faintly register Breezeflight’s hysterical yowling as he watched his apprentice fall to the ground. The silver medicine cat turned her head slowly, confused. Her eyes fell on the collapsed apprentice and they widened.

One heartbeat passed as Minnowflash struggled to push her way out of the crowd of injured cats. A second heartbeat passed as Wingshadow turned to see Splashpaw on the ground, a stream of spittle leaking from her gaping mouth. A third, fourth, fifth heartbeat pounded in Wingshadow’s head. Breezeflight’s horrified cry for help echoed around the camp.

All the while Cougarstar did nothing.

Minnowflash finally managed to dislodge herself from her Clanmates and dashed to Splashpaw’s side. She rolled the little cat onto her side with nimble paws. Splashpaw’s flank was still. Wingshadow suddenly found himself at her side as well. He stood, staring, unsure what to do. Why hadn’t the apprentice been the first to see Minnowflash?

Another heart-rending shriek told Wingshadow that Splashpaw’s mother, Ripplepelt, had figured out what was happening. He looked up and watched the she cat wrench herself away from her Clanmates. The silver and black tabby staggered to her daughter’s side. Breezeflight held out his tail, stopping the horrified queen from getting any closer. His wide eyes were fixed on Minnowflash.

The medicine cat leaned down and pressed her small ear to the apprentice’s unmoving chest. Minnowflash looked up and saw Wingshadow standing there.

“Do you know what coltsfoot is?” she demanded. As the medicine cat spoke she pressed two paws on Splashpaw’s flank and began pushing down in rhythmic strokes. Wingshadow’s mind blanked.

“I do!” Another warrior cried from the crowd. Wingshadow jumped and looked over to see Spottedowl disappear into Minnowflash’s den and reappear a heartbeat later with a mouthful of pale yellow flowers. He dashed over to her and took the herbs from her jaws. He turned, wondering why every cat was just standing there instead of helping.

Wingshadow scrambled across the root-strewn camp floor and back to Minnowflash’s side. He shoved the coltsfoot at her and she took it. Then he sat back, unable to do anything more. The camp was silent except for Breezeflight’s occasional muffled wail.

Minnowflash pried open Splashpaw’s jaws and stuffed the chewed herb into the little cat’s mouth. Nothing happened. Minnowflash continued to push on Splashpaw’s flank, only pausing occasionally to listen with an ear close to the apprentice’s chest. Still nothing happened.

Wingshadow watched with horror as the color slowly drained from Splashpaw’s pads. The sound of an approaching cat caused him to tear his eyes away. Cougarstar stood next to him. Her pale eyes looked down at the apprentice without even a glimmer of emotion. She padded forward and rested her paw on Minnowflash’s shoulder. The medicine cat ignored her leader’s touch.

“She is dead.” Cougarstar said in a flat voice. Minnowflash continued to rub Splashpaw’s chest. Cougarstar’s eyes suddenly flashed with rage and, with a single fluid motion, she flung Minnowflash aside. Wingshadow’s belly lurched. Several warriors cried out and rushed to the medicine cat’s side. Cougarstar ignored them.

“No!” Breezeflight’s cry was agonized. He lurched forward and began pressing down on his apprentice’s side in a crude imitation of what Minnowflash had done. 

Cougarstar whirled on her warrior and pushed him aside. He wailed as his wounded front leg gave out under him. The WillowClan leader then bent and closed Splashpaw’s terrified, empty eyes with a gentle motion of her forepaw.

The brown she-cat turned and faced her Clan. Wingshadow crept forwards and steadied Breezeflight who was trying to stand up and get to his apprentice again. Ripplepelt stood beside them, motionless.

“She’s with StarClan.” Wingshadow murmured to his distraught Clanmate. Breezeflight only moaned in reply.

“This day’s loss was terrible.” Cougarstar called out. Her tone was loud, as if she was calming a clamor, but the Clan was silent. “Owlears and Splashpaw gave their lives in service of their Clan and will be honored.”

Ripplepelt let out a low keening sound that sent every hair on Wingshadow’s pelt alive with chills. The she-cat collapsed and dragged herself to her daughter’s side.

A shocked silence fell over the Clan. Cougarstar glanced down at Ripplepelt and continued, unfazed.

“Unfortunately there are cats among us that do not deserve the same honor.”

Wingshadow looked up at that. The Clan’s silence finally burst into a wave of confused mutters and shocked meows.

“What do you mean, Cougarstar?” Fogpelt called from his position beside his mate, Iristail. Both warriors had fought in the battle and bore claw marks to show for it.

Cougarstar’s neck fur rose and she fixed the senior warrior with a steely glare.

“ _Cowards_ do not deserve honor.” She spat. She gestured at the gathered Clan with a wild swing of her thick tail. “ _None_ of you deserve honor!”

Wingshadow’s heart thudded in his chest. This is what he had feared would happen. He gazed desperately at his leader. They had supported her. They had fought for her even when they were stricken with illness. How could she think this of them?

 _Please don’t do this!_ He begged silently.

“We have served you faithfully, Cougarstar.” Fogpelt said. His voice was still calm although his eyes blazed. “We have served you despite your war mongering. We have stood by your side as you have made enemies of our fellow Clans. We have followed you as you sought to destroy the peace in the forest for your own selfish gain.”

The whole Clan stared at Fogpelt. He was on all four paws, staring down his leader with a fury Wingshadow had never seen. Cougarstar stood with her mouth slightly open.

“I hoped a defeat would make you come to your senses.” Fogpelt continued. “It seems even the death of your sister and an apprentice have had no effect on you. Where is the Cougarstar I knew?” His voice changed to a plea. “Where is the humble, loyal warrior who valued the lives of her Clanmates?”

Cougarstar stood alone at the center of the camp. Branches crisscrossed over her low hanging head. Her tail had fallen to the frozen ground. Finally she spoke.

“So that is how you feel.” She said in a voice almost too quiet to hear.

“You killed Splashpaw!” Breezeflight shrieked from beside Wingshadow. “She was sick and you made her fight!” The distraught warrior collapsed into his Clanmate’s side and fell silent.

Wingshadow tensed, wondering what his once noble leader might do. The she-cat’s spine stiffened and she turned away from her Clan. No cat said another word as the defeated leader padded to her den among the twisting roots of the Great Willow. She slipped inside.

Silence.

“That was _painful_ to watch.” A drawling voice caused Wingshadow to jump and look around for the source. His Clanmates did the same around him.

A stranger, a black and gray tom, was standing at the entrance to the camp. He stood casually as he surveyed the beaten and broken Clan. Fogpelt and a few others advanced with claws out.

“Who in StarClan’s name are you?” Fogpelt demanded.

The newcomer swept the camp with calm yellow eyes. Then he spoke.

“I’m the cat who is going to save your Clan.”


	23. Dawn

Heronpaw stepped out into the silent, sleeping camp. Determined, he made a beeline for the warriors den. There wasn’t time to waste.

“What are you doing?”

Heronpaw whirled around to find Hawkpaw emerging from the shadows at the edge of camp. He padded over to Heronpaw and tilted his head.

“I need to talk to Dawnheart.” Heronpaw said in a low voice.

“He’s not there.” Hawkpaw said. “He’s at the Stone-place.”

Heronpaw tilted his head. “Why?”

Hawkpaw shook his head. “Blackmoth died.” He said softly. Heronpaw’s stomach lurched but he steeled himself against the grief for his Clanmate. More Clanmates would die if he didn’t get to Dawnheart.

Heronpaw nodded and turned around so he could head to the camp entrance. His paws faltered when he remembered who was guarding the entrance. He didn’t know if Crowfrost would let him go.

“Wait!” Hawkpaw blocked Heronpaw’s way. “You’re just going to leave again? What happened? What did Blizzardstar say?”

Heronpaw met Hawkpaw’s concerned gaze. He debated with himself for a moment.

“I went with Petalpaw to speak to StarClan.” Heronpaw said. Hawkpaw’s eyes grew huge.

“You went all the way to the Moontree?” He gasped. Heronpaw nodded.

“We got a message that I need to deliver to Dawnheart.” He took a step to the side, trying to pass his brother. Hawkpaw put a paw down in his way.

“Can it wait? If you sneak off again…” Hawkpaw’s worried mew trailed off as he caught sight of Heronpaw’s eyes.

“It needs to be now.” Heronpaw growled through gritted teeth. Hawkpaw’s neck fur rose slightly.

“Why?” his question was sharp.

“It’s about the catmint.” 

Hawkpaw’s eyes grew wide.

“StarClan told _you_ where to find the catmint.” He said blankly. Irritated, Heronpaw shuffled his paws in the frozen dirt and shook his head.

“They told Petalpaw and she told me. Now I have to tell Dawnheart.” He said.

The brothers held eye contact for a few tense heartbeats. Heronpaw shifted from paw to paw. If Hawkpaw didn’t believe him he could raise the alarm and stop Heronpaw from leaving.

Finally Hawkpaw nodded.

“Okay.” He stepped aside. Relieved, Heronpaw made to pass the tabby apprentice. Hawkpaw blocked his way again.

“Crowfrost isn’t going to let you out.” He said. Heronpaw winced. His fears had been confirmed.

Heronpaw nodded to his brother in thanks and turned away from the entrance. He made his way to the apprentice’s den instead. He slipped behind it and got ready to squeeze out into the forest when he realized Hawkpaw was following him. Heronpaw turned.

“I’m going with you.” Hawkpaw said. There was no question in the statement. “I need to help.”

Heronpaw opened his mouth to tell Hawkpaw that he didn’t need his help but he stopped. There was something different about Hawkpaw. He stood taller and his eyes were earnest. His foolhardy overconfidence had gone and was replaced with quiet determination.

“What happened to you?” Heronpaw thought out loud. Hawkpaw flicked an ear.

“I could ask the same thing.” He purred.

Together the brothers slid between two tree trunks and out into the silent forest. Heronpaw breathed in the cold air and led the way. He followed the same path he had taken just two nights earlier. Hawkpaw followed silently.

They followed the edge of the camp wall until they came across the small clearing the Clan called the Stone-place. Heronpaw’s breath caught in his throat as he took in the scene. This place always left him in awe.

The little clearing was dusted in snow but the white flowers that ringed the area were still in bloom. Stones of all sizes and colors were scattered across the ground. Heronpaw couldn’t help but rest his eyes on a particular tiny white stone near the center of the clearing.

_I hope this is the right thing to do, Dovekit._ Heronpaw thought.

Dawnheart was sitting at the far edge of the Stone-place. Four stones sat before his paws. Two of them were new. Dawnheart had his head resting on his paws and his nose touching a black cobble. A cold stone dropped into Heronpaw’s belly.

_Blackmoth._

He hesitated before stepping forward, unwilling to disturb Dawnheart’s grieving.

“Dawnheart?” He said quietly. Dawnheart looked up. His blue eyes grew huge and he leapt to his paws.

“Heronpaw!” He cried.

Heronpaw winced at the noise.

“Where have you been?” Dawnheart purred as he rushed over. The warrior touched noses with Heronpaw. It was very cold.

“I went to speak to StarClan.” Heronpaw began. Dawnheart stepped back and fixed his friend with a concerned, awed gaze. Heronpaw told a shortened version of the story. Dawnheart listened intently. When Heronpaw got to the prophecy he paused. Dawnheart hadn’t reacted the way Heronpaw had expected.

“We think the prophecy is about you.” Heronpaw said. Dawnheart’s eyes grew wide.

“Me?” His voice cracked.

“ _Look to the dawn and follow his heart._ ” Heronpaw recited again. “Who else would it be about?”

“But I don’t know anything about the catmint!” Dawnheart said, his ears flattening and his tail swishing.

“Surely you know something.” Hawkpaw interjected. Dawnheart turned his distressed blue eyes on the apprentice.

“I…” The pale warrior took a step back from his Clanmates. Heronpaw began to panic. Dawnheart was the Clan’s best hope. He had to be the key. Heronpaw’s mind whirled. Suddenly a memory of the lake and the Clan territories as they looked from the mountainside flashed in his mind’s eye. He saw the sun rising from beyond PineClan territory. From beyond _Twolegplace_.

“It’s literal!” he burst out. Hawkpaw and Dawnheart looked at him. “ _Look to the dawn_. Literally ‘look in that direction’.”

“Twolegplace.” Hawkpaw said, nodding. He lashed his tail with excitement at the discovery. “That’s where Dawnheart was born! His _heart_!”

“My heart lies in the forest.” Dawnheart said with a single, violent lash of his tail. Heronpaw shot Hawkpaw an annoyed glare. Clearly Hawkpaw hadn’t changed that much.

“We know that.” Heronpaw said. He rested his tail on Dawnheart’s shoulder. “But you have to admit that it makes sense.”

Heronpaw looked his friend in the eyes. They were dull with pain. Hawkpaw and Crowfrost weren’t the only cats who had changed. Dawnheart looked frail in the moonlight. His eyes were rimmed by dark shadows and the very air around him smelled of fear. There was something very familiar about that expression.

“What do Blizzardstar and Plumleaf think?” Dawnheart croaked.

“Blizzardstar agrees that the prophecy is about you.” Heronpaw trailed off, unwilling to admit the truth.

“What about Plumleaf?” Dawnheart pressed. Heronpaw looked away.

“She agrees too.” Hawkpaw lied. Heronpaw shot his brother a look. Hawkpaw stared back defiantly.

 _He’s’ going to do anything to help Morningpaw get well again._ Heronpaw realized.

“Think of our sick Clanmates, Dawnheart.” Hawkpaw continued. “Think of Frayclaw.”

Dawnheart stared down at his forepaws with wide, scared eyes. Heronpaw’s heart ached for his friend. He had endured so much loss in the last moon and now he was being called on by StarClan. Heronpaw could sympathize with how overwhelmed the warrior must feel.

“Okay.” Dawnheart said suddenly. Heronpaw was taken aback.

“Okay?” He echoed.

“I’ll go to Twolegplace.” Dawnheart lifted his head. A spark of determination had lit a fire behind his eyes. He stood up. “I’ll find the catmint.”

. . .

Dawnheart watched as a look of confused relief passed over Heronpaw’s face.

“I’ll come with you.” The apprentice said quickly. Hawkpaw nodded.

“Me too.” The tabby said.

Dawnheart shook his head.

“You can’t disappear again, Heronpaw.” He said. Heronpaw opened his jaws to retort but Dawnheart cut him off. “Don’t abandon them again.”

Heronpaw’s yellow eyes grew wide. He clamped his mouth shut and nodded stiffly. Dawnheart turned to Hawkpaw and looked him up and down. Both apprentices were healthy and strong. The Clan couldn’t afford to lose either of them.

“You can’t come either.” Dawnheart said to the apprentice. Hawkpaw’s tail lashed.

“Why not?” he demanded. His sudden transformation into a serious and responsible cat had been surprising but Dawnheart had suspected that Hawkpaw was always going to be hotheaded.

“The Clan needs you.” Dawnheart said. Hawkpaw began to argue but Dawnheart pressed forward. “The sick and injured need prey. Losing one hunter will be bad enough, we can’t lose more.”

He could see his words working on Hawkpaw’s brain. The apprentice’s face scrunched up as he seemingly fought to find a hole in Dawnheart’s logic. Finally he hissed in frustration and lashed his tail.

“ _Fine_.” He said. Dawnheart sighed inwardly. He decided that he would need to make sure either apprentice didn’t follow him when he left. He wouldn’t put it past them. Dawnheart turned to Heronpaw.

“Blizzardstar doesn’t know about this, does he?” Dawnheart said. Heronpaw avoided eye contact.

“He knows about the prophecy.”

“But not that I’m going?”

“No. I don’t think he really believes me.” Heronpaw admitted. Dawnheart’s belly squirmed. He closed his eyes and thought of the sick cats back at camp. Blizzardstar had just lost a life, his daughter was in a rival Clan’s territory alone, and most of his Clan was either sick or injured. Dawnheart couldn’t blame his leader for being conflicted.

“Cover for me as long as you can.” Dawnheart said. “Once Blizzardstar knows, he might try to stop me.”

“Hopefully Petalpaw will be back by then and she can convince everyone.” Heronpaw said, nodding.

“What about Frayclaw?” Hawkpaw asked. Dawnheart’s chest tightened. He thought of Frayclaw lying in the warrior’s den. The gray warrior had only gotten worse since the night of the battle. His wheezing breath echoed in Dawnheart’s mind.

“Don’t tell him. He’ll try to follow me.” Dawnheart instructed the apprentices. They nodded. Dawnheart looked up at the patch of sky visible from the hole in the canopy. The moon was still high. Morning was a long way off.

“If I leave now I can be back by sunset tomorrow.” He said. That should give him ample time to search Twolegplace. Heronpaw and Hawkpaw nodded.

“May StarClan guide your paws.” Heronpaw said, dipping his head. Hawkpaw copied his brother. Dawnheart nodded back.

“Keep them safe.” He said. He didn’t stay to hear their response. Instead he turned and bounded out of the clearing.

Dawnheart’s mind raced as he sped through the quiet, freezing forest. Somehow he had found himself at the center of a prophecy. He still didn’t even know quite what it meant, but the words were clear. Somehow, Dawnheart was supposed to know where to go to find the life-saving herb that would cure his Clan.

 _Follow his heart_.

The words struck a fear deep within Dawnheart’s mind. He had been born in Twolegplace but that was not where he belonged. Twolegplace was _not_ where his heart lay. His heart lay with this forest; with CedarClan; with Frayclaw…

But his heart, his heritage, might have caused the deaths of the cats he loved. Spottedfur would be alive if Dawnheart’s warrior ceremony hadn’t angered WillowClan. Blackmoth might still be alive if he hadn’t been weak.

He shook his head, trying to dispel the thoughts. If he didn’t belong, why did StarClan send him this prophecy?

Dawnheart leapt over the stream which had begun to freeze over each night. He adjusted his path so it would take him to the PineClan border. He could follow the Twoleg path and be taken right to the edge of Twolegplace.

And then what?

Would StarClan guide him then?

He approached the PineClan border and slowed his frantic pace. The snow was thicker here and he needed to be careful lest he trip. He soon arrived near the same spot he, Hawkpaw, and Swiftwing had been just the day before. He slowed to a stop and tasted the air.

A scent tickled the back of his throat. A memory, freezing and soaked in blood, drifted to the forefront of his mind.

Dawnheart stopped and breathed in again. He knew that scent. He turned.

Slatefoot stood a few fox-lengths away in the shadow of a pine tree. Dawnheart’s neck fur rose as their eyes met.

There was something different about the dark warrior. His expression was shadowed but there was no threat in his posture.

Dawnheart swallowed his anxiety. He tried to think of something to say. His mouth ran dry of excuses.

“Slatefoot-“

“Don’t come back.” Slatefoot spoke so quietly that Dawnheart had to strain his ears to hear.

“I have to.” Dawnheart managed. He shifted his paws uncomfortably.

Slatefoot stepped out of the shadows. Dawnheart flinched. Their eyes met and Slatefoot blinked dully. There was no trace of the fever-like state that had taken over the warrior during the battle, but still Dawnheart’s fear pounded in his ears.

Slatefoot shook his head and closed his eyes. When he opened them again his pupils were slits.

Dawnheart took an involuntary step back.

Slatefoot cocked his head and twitched an ear. Then, without warning, he simply turned and disappeared into the shadows once more. 

Dawnheart let out the breath he had been holding. He stood there for a decent while, trying to calm himself. Once his heart had slowed he forced his paws to start moving again.

He couldn’t let this deter him. He had to keep moving.

He shoved Slatefoot to the back of his mind. The catmint was all that mattered now.

Dawnheart gingerly stepped out onto the twoleg path. The snow was shallower here and there was no risk of tripping. He looked dawn-ward to where the path disappeared into the trees. It was a straight shot to Twolegplace. He took one last deep breath and was relieved to find no trace of Slatefoot’s scent. He began to run.

He ran until the moon had set. The night darkened and the forest seemed to hold its breath, waiting for the sun. Dawnheart skirted the edge of the twoleg path, unease pricking at his pelt. He had passed the edges of Clan territory not long ago but already everything was so different.

The foliage was thinner and the ground was flatter. Odd smells drifted to him from every direction and in the distance he could hear an occasional rumble of the Thunderpath.

He had heard stories about the Thunderpath and all the dangers it posed to cats. It was a wide stretch of sticky black stone that twoleg monsters traveled on at impossible speeds. Any cat who dared to cross one was in danger of being struck and killed by one of these huge, shiny creatures with round paws and glowing eyes.

Dawnheart had tried to take a guarded approach to these stories. He didn’t want to believe such things existed but as he neared the rumbling sound and acrid scents he started to think that they might be true.

A flash of light through the trees ahead made Dawnheart jump and scramble for cover under a bush at the edge of the path. He watched, terrified, as the beam of light grew larger and the rumbling sound of what could only be a monster filled the night air.

Dawnheart shrank back as an impossibly huge _thing_ sped across his vision through the trees. The harsh lights disappeared as it roared by, leaving only an eerie red glow in its wake. Dawnheart stayed where he was until his heart slowed and his fur flattened on his shoulders. It seemed that the stories were true.

He slipped out from under the bush on shaking paws. There was no sign of the monster in either direction, although scenting it was out of the question. The overpowering reek of the Thunderpath obscured even the scent of the pine trees around him. He crept forward. Constant thoughts of his sick Clan were the only things keeping him from turning tail and running.

The snow underpaw became gritty with rocks and grime as he approached the Thunderpath. Dawnheart choked back bile as the stench of crowfood and monster filled his nose and mouth. His eyes watered but he stepped up onto the slightly raised black stone.

He looked left down the wide path and saw something that made his heart leap and his stomach clench simultaneously. A soft glow of unnatural light lit the trees in the distance. Twolegplace.


	24. Twolegplace

The sun had risen by the time Dawnheart caught his first view of a twoleg nest. He had followed the Thunderpath for ages but the glow of twoleg lights hadn’t seemed to get any closer. Until now.

He could see the weird, square twoleg nest beyond a field of tall grass and a tree covered hill. It was so close. He looked down at his paws. They were firmly planted on the wrong side of the Thunderpath. In order to get to the nest he needed to cross it. He had suspected that this might happen but he had prayed that it wouldn’t.

He shook his head. StarClan couldn’t do anything about the placement of twoleg things. He raised a paw and set it on the unnaturally straight white line that edged the Thunderpath. It felt smoother than the rock around it. He focused. He couldn’t feel any vibrations.

Dawnheart had learned that he could feel the approach of a monster before he heard or scented it. Hopefully this worked with every monster. He took a deep breath, looked both ways, and ran.

Once he was out on open path a wave of panic gripped him. His legs flexed and drove him forward faster than he had ever run in his life. In a moment it was over. He had crossed the entire thing in less than four bounds. He looked back, shocked. Adrenaline still pumped in his veins and he wasted no time diving into the safety of the tall grass.

He crouched there, heart banging wildly in his chest, and tried to calm down. It took a while but eventually his heart slowed and his senses cleared. He looked up to the sky and saw the sun peeking out above the trees in front of him.

 _Look to the dawn._ He thought, resigned.

He set out through the long grass.

He crossed the field of strange long grass and came to a twoleg thing that reminded him of the sticks driven into the ground at the edge of the border path. The shiny tendrils were thinner than the ones in the forest. He stretched out his neck, trying to sniff them.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” A voice said from somewhere above Dawnheart. He jumped and stepped back from the wooden thing. Then he looked up.

A cat was lounging on a branch of a tree that stretched out over the field of grass. The tabby tom examined Dawnheart with a lazy amber gaze. His tail flicked once and Dawnheart noticed that it was bent in the middle.

Could this cat be a kittypet? His fur was sleek and well-groomed but he had an air of danger around him. Claw marks scored the trunk of his perch and he had a nick in one ear. Dawnheart straightened up, suddenly aware of how frazzled and dirty he must look.

“Why not?” He asked the stranger. The tabby lifted a paw and began to clean it.

“It’ll hurtcha.” He said, not looking at Dawnheart. Dawnheart tilted his head and looked closer at the tendril. It didn’t look sharp. He looked back up at the tom, unsure.

“How?” He asked. The tom looked down at Dawnheart through one amber eye. He snorted.

“Try it. I don’t care.” His voice was strange. The middle of his words were drawn out and he sounded as if he were talking through his nose rather than his mouth.

Dawnheart eyed the twoleg thing warily. He decided not to risk it.

“Is there another way through?” Dawnheart asked instead. The tabby looked down again, this time with both eyes.

“Why?” His voice sharpened. Dawnheart winced.

“I’m looking for something.”

That proved to be the wrong thing to say. The cat jumped down from his tree and landed in front of Dawnheart, teeth bared. Dawnheart backed up. He was sure he could take this cat in a fight, the tabby wasn’t even using the correct battle stance, but he knew that violence wouldn’t get him any closer to the catmint.

“If you’re after the chickens-“ the tom spat, unsheathing his claws, “I’ll have you know that no cat has _ever_ stolen from me.”

Dawnheart cocked his head. _Chickens?_

“I’m looking for a plant.” He said quickly as the tom advanced. The cat froze.

“A plant?” He sounded bewildered.

“Yes, catmint. Have you heard of it?” Dawnheart said carefully. This cat was volatile. The tabby’s neck fur flattened and his tail lowered.

“No.” He said. Dawnheart’s heart sank. “But I know someone who might’ve.”

Dawnheart’s tail shot up. He couldn’t keep his excitement hidden.

“Can you take me to them?” he said eagerly. The tom looked Dawnheart up and down with a suspicious eye.

“You promise you aren’t here for the chickens?” he said.

Dawnheart nodded. “I don’t even know what those are.”

The cat shrugged and started walking away. Dawnheart guessed that he should follow. The cat led him a few foxlengths along the side of the twoleg thing to where the limb of a tree was resting against it. The tabby jumped up on the fallen limb and used it to leap neatly to the other side. Dawnheart followed, apprehensive.

The log shook under Dawnheart’s weight but he managed to scramble to the other side and drop down next to the cat.

“I’m Fitzy by the way.” The tom said. Dawnheart blinked. What a strange name.

“My name is Dawnheart.” Dawnheart said. Fitzy twitched an ear. Dawnheart guessed that he was just as confused by Dawnheart’s name as the Clan cat was by his.

Fitzy gave another shrug and led Dawnheart into the trees. They were all bare of leaves and grew entangled in one another’s branches. The ground was covered by dirty, churned up snow. Fitzy led the way up a short hill and out of the tiny forest. Dawnheart peeked out from under a leafless bush, surveying the land.

Several tall pine trees stood about a tree-length from where Dawnheart crouched. Beyond them was a slightly sloped patch of snow covered ground that was bare of any vegetation. Just beyond that lay the twoleg nest. He tried to get a good look at it but was interrupted by Fitzy’s annoyed voice.

“Hey, you comin’?” The tabby called from behind the dried husks of a tall plant Dawnheart couldn’t identify. He took a few careful steps out into the open and stopped.

Another, smaller twoleg nest had been obscured by the tree Dawnheart had been hiding beneath. It was a fraction of the size of the other one and it was surrounded by more of the shiny tendril stuff. A gust of wind brought a magnificent smell to Dawnheart’s nose. It was like that of a pigeon or blackbird but much stronger.

His mouth watered and his belly rumbled. He hadn’t eaten for a long time.

“Don’t even think about it.” Fitzy said, raising his hackles.

Dawnheart snapped his jaws shut, immediately feeling guilty. The smell must be coming from those ‘chickens’ he had mentioned. He could see why the cat was so suspicious that other cats would want to hunt them. They smelled intoxicating.

“I’m sorry. I haven’t eaten in a while.” Dawnheart admitted. Fitzy narrowed his eyes.

“Well you aren’t eatin’ here.” He said. Dawnheart nodded. His belly growled unhelpfully.

Fitzy rolled his eyes and bounded through the snow towards the larger twoleg nest. Dawnheart followed until the tabby stopped under one of the large pine trees. He turned and eyed Dawnheart again.

“I have to go get her.” Fitzy said. “Stay here.” He jumped down onto a stack of rocks and sped across the snow and around the side of the nest. Dawnheart sat and curled his tail over his paws. This cat was naïve. He was just leaving a stranger on his territory unsupervised. If he wanted, Dawnheart could probably sneak one of the chickens and be gone before Fitzy returned.

The smell of the creatures was overwhelming so close to their nest. Dawnheart found it hard to focus on anything but the hunger in his belly and the scent of prey. Now that he was still he could pick up a quiet _buhc buhc_ sound from behind him. He turned and saw what had to be the chickens picking their way around the wall of their nest and into view.

He had been correct in thinking they were birds but he was shocked at how large they were. They were about the size of a full grown cat. They stood on two scaly legs like most birds and had a variety of colorful feathers. They eyed him with beady black stares. Low warning crows started deep in their throats and they strutted around warily. Their movements were so _weird_.

They bounced with each step and their heads bobbed. The birds Dawnheart was used to seeing were quick with their movements and hopped around on two feet. These things were very different.

A loud, harsh sound assaulted Dawnheart’s ears. It was like the calls of the herons that flocked near the lake, throaty and clipped, but it was much louder and higher pitched. Dawnheart jumped and flattened his ears as an even bigger ‘chicken’ waddled out from behind the nest. This one was pure white and had a beak and feet like a duck.

It caught sight of Dawnheart and extended two enormous wings. It let out another piercing _honk_. Dawnheart scrambled back from the creature and felt the ground under him disappear. He fell backwards with a yelp and landed with a thump in a pile of snow.

He had managed to fall off the edge of the stacked rocks and onto the flat ground below. He scrambled to his paws as he heard a jaunty mew from behind.

“Looks like he met Hamlette!” Fitzy’s voice was amused. Dawnheart turned to see the tabby and two new cats approaching him. The first was a ginger tabby tom with a white chest and belly. His yellow eyes twinkled with quiet amusement. He looked like a Clan elder; skinny but with an air of wisdom about him.

The other cat was-

Dawnheart’s belly lurched. The other cat looked just like him.

Well, ‘just like’ was a stretch but there was certainly a resemblance. The she-cat was plumper and shorter than Dawnheart but her paws, tail, ears, and face were all the same shade of grayish brown that his were. Her coat was cream colored just like his and her striking blue eyes gazed at him curiously from an angular face that Dawnheart had only seen in his own reflection.

The she-cat’s round eyes grew rounder and she stopped in her tracks. They stared at each other for a moment before she let out a high pitched squeal of joy and broke into a run. Dawnheart barely had time to react before she launched herself at him and bowled him straight over with a cry of “It’s you!”

The she-cat was surprisingly heavy. Dawnheart gasped for air as she choked him with her thick fur.

“You’re going to smother him!” A stern but amused voice said. The she-cat’s weight disappeared from Dawnheart’s chest and he quickly rolled back to his feet. The she-cat was standing close enough that Dawnheart could feel her breath ripple over his whiskers.

She gazed at his face with a look of such delight that he couldn’t help but purr. She was fairly odd looking up close. Her eyes seemed to look in slightly different directions and she had a patch of ginger fur on her forehead.

“I knew I’d meet you one day.” She breathed. Her voice had the same strange accent as Fitzy.

“I, uh,” Dawnheart began, still bewildered. “Do I know you?”

The she-cat stepped back and struck a pose. He thought that she must be trying to look impressive but her abnormally round belly and funny eyes ruined the image.

“Don’t you recognize your sister?” she announced.

Dawnheart blinked.

“There is definitely a resemblance.” The older tom said. His whiskers were twitching as he watched. Fitzy snorted.

“Yeah, and there’s a resemblance between a mouse and you.” He said.

“Their markings are identical!” The ginger tom argued.

Dawnheart drew in her scent. A faint memory, as thin and wispy as a cobweb, floated to the surface of his mind; a warm nest, sweet milk, squirming bodies, and that scent. His eyes grew wide as a flood of emotion crashed against him. He looked into his litter-mate’s eyes and felt like his legs were going to give out on him.

“I’m Kibby.” She said in her squeaky mew. “Our mother named me Chamomile but no one calls me that.”

“Chamomile.” Dawnheart said out loud. The name was strange to his ear but it felt right on his tongue.

“Kibby.” The she-cat said slowly. “What’s your name? Well, I know what mother called you but you probably have a different one now.” Her babbling reminded Dawnheart of Specklepaw.

“Dawnheart.” He said. Kibby’s eyes grew rounder still.

“You’re a warrior! That’s amazing!” she cried, shoving her muzzle at him to forcibly touch noses.

Dawnheart stared at her.

“You know what a warrior is?” He managed to say.

Kibby nodded enthusiastically.

“Mother knows all about the Clans.” She said.

“She…what?” Dawnheart’s jaw dropped. His head spun. This was too much. He knew that his mother had given him to the Clans of her own accord but he had always imagined the act to have been one of desperation, but now, now nothing made sense.

The orange tom padded up and laid his tail over Kibby’s shoulders.

“You’re going to overwhelm him, little one.” He said.

Kibby huffed. “I told you not to call me that, Oliver!”

The older tom shook his head slightly and turned to Dawnheart.

“You’re looking for catmint?” He said in his calm, level voice. Dawnheart nodded. Oliver’s gaze turned solemn. “Is there sickness in the Clan?” he asked.

Dawnheart was left speechless again. How did these cats know so much? He gaped for another moment before composing himself with a deep breath.

“I’m sorry. I’m just-”

“Surprised?” Kibby interrupted. “I knew you would be.”

Dawnheart shook himself. “There is sickness,” he continued. “I was told there might be catmint in Twolegplace.”

“There is!” Kibby chirped. She gave a little skip.

“There _might_ be.” The ginger tom corrected her. He turned his yellow gaze on Dawnheart. “There is a place that it grows but the early frosts might have killed it.”

Dawnheart’s belly lurched. “Can you take me there?”

Oliver nodded. Kibby bounced with excitement.

“Can I come?” she asked.

“Uh, sure.” Dawnheart said.

“ _I’m_ staying here.” Fitzy growled from the tree above. Dawnheart hadn’t even noticed when the tabby tom had jumped up there. “Somecat has to guard the chickens.”

“And what were you doing when you found Dawnheart?” Kibby said slyly.

Fitzy hissed and retreated into the shadows of the tree. Kibby turned to Dawnheart, her tail straight up in the air. She kneaded the ground with her paws.

“Come on!” she squeaked. She turned and bounced through the snow towards another large pine tree that grew close to the twoleg nest’s outer wall. Oliver glanced at Dawnheart. He gestured with his white ringed tail and the two toms began to trot after Kibby.

“Sorry about her.” Oliver said.

“It’s fine. I just wasn’t expecting all of this.” Dawnheart admitted. These cats were kittypets, complete strangers to him, and yet he felt comfortable in their midst. They reminded him of his Clanmates. Fitzy was like Swiftwing, sarcastic and grumpy. Oliver was like Elkheart, wise and kind. Kibby was something else entirely but she shared Specklepaw’s manic energy.

As they bounded after Kibby, Dawnheart looked up at the looming twoleg nest. His pelt stood up along his spine as he looked at it. It was so angular and unnatural. He shivered as he imagined going inside and being trapped by those strange walls. He may feel comfortable with these cats, but he would never enter a twoleg nest.

Kibby led them through a hedge of bushes that seemed to act as some sort of twoleg border. The land on the other side was flat and snowy, but there was another nest here and different twoleg things. They crested a small hill and overlooked more twoleg nests all in a row. Dawnheart was thankful to see more trees. Being out in the open like this was wearing on his nerves.

Oliver took the lead down the slope and into the trees. Kibby fell back and started walking next to Dawnheart. She struggled a bit as she pushed through the snow. Dawnheart’s longer legs lifted him above the frozen stuff. He watched her, bemused, as she outright refused to use the trenches that Oliver was carving ahead of her.

Dawnheart’s curiosity got the better of him. “You said that I had a different name before.” He said. “What was it?”

Kibby looked up at him and nearly tripped over her own paws in her excitement. Dawnheart made to steady her but she just sort of threw herself back on balance and continued like nothing happened.

“Ginseng.” She said.

Dawnheart blinked. Was that familiar? He couldn’t remember. He did remember more than one squirming littermate though.

“Do we have siblings?”

“Two! Chai and Matcha. They live far away though.” Kibby said this brightly as if having her littermates live away from her was completely normal. Dawnheart thought of Frayclaw and how far he was from him. His heart twisted.

“Mother’s name is Jasmine.” Kibby continued.

“Does she live nearby?” Dawnheart asked. Kibby stopped dead. Dawnheart stumbled and looked back at her. Her eyes had gone huge again.

“I forgot!” She cried. “We can go see her!”

Dawnheart shook his head as if trying to dispel a bothersome insect. “You forgot?”

“Yeah!” Kibby started up her bouncing walk again. “Hey Oliver! Can we go to Jasmine’s house?” She called. Oliver flicked his tail.

“That’s where we’re going.” He called back over his shoulder. His mew was tinged with humor and exasperation.

“Oh yeah!” Kibby shook her head. “The catmint is at Jasmine’s house. I’m a chickenbrain.”

Dawnheart didn’t know how to react. These cats and this place felt unreal. It was like he had shed his worries and fears once he crossed the Thunderpath. Kibby and Oliver were well-fed and healthy. They didn’t have to fear the cold or hunger. They could afford to protect prey for their Twolegs instead of eating it for StarClan’s sake.

A thought occurred to him. If his mother knew about the Clans, she had to know how hard Clan life was. Why was she so willing to give one of her children to that life?

He watched Kibby scamper up to Oliver to tell him something. The older cat purred and waved his tail at her. They were so happy with their simple lives. He thought back to the camp he had left with the illness, hunger, and fear that hung like a mist over every cat’s head. He thought of Blackmoth’s blood-soaked pelt and Spottedfur’s lifeless eyes. He imagined Frayclaw’s body growing cold and stiff as he waited for Dawnheart’s return.

A bolt of pain shot through Dawnheart’s chest and he gasped aloud. The thought had been so terrible that it physically hurt him. Kibby and Oliver turned to face him.

“Are you okay?” Kibby asked. Dawnheart nodded shakily.

“Just stepped on a sharp stone.” He lied. Kibby seemed satisfied but Oliver’s yellow eyes lingered on Dawnheart before he turned away again.

“We’re almost there!” Kibby mewed, hanging back to wait for him. Dawnheart could hear the sounds of another Thunderpath to their right. He shivered, hoping he wouldn’t have to cross it.

The group came to a narrow twoleg path that was cleared of snow. It was made of some sort of flat gray stone, like slate, but it felt grainier underpaw. Oliver led them up the path and through the pine trees until they came to another twoleg nest. This nest was smaller than the others Dawnheart had seen, but just as intimidating.

Dead vines, bushes, and flowers crowed the outside of the den. It looked like nature had taken the structure for its own but upon closer inspection Dawnheart could see the harsh glow of Twoleg lights from within the nest.

Kibby and Oliver walked right up to the nest without fear. Dawnheart hung back and watched as the older cat reared up and put his paws onto a wooden slab on the side of the den’s outer wall. Oliver let out a loud yowl. There was movement within the den.

Fear shot through Dawnheart and he dashed behind a tree as the wooden slab swung outward. He peeked around the trunk of the tree and watched as a twoleg emerged from the nest. It was tall and pink, with colorful pelts draped over its fur-less body. The twoleg let out a yelp of delight and knelt to touch Oliver. Dawnheart expected the tom to run, fight, or at least dodge the twoleg’s weird fleshy paw, but he stretched his back up to meet it instead.

Kibby jumped up onto a smooth, stump-like object that had a wilting fern growing out of the top. She leaned into the twoleg’s touch as well and mewed like a queen greeting her kits. Dawnheart watched the bizarre spectacle with increasing bewilderment. He finally had enough and turned away.

Any comparison he had made between the noble cats of CedarClan and these kitty-pets felt wrong now. Clan cats avoided twolegs. They abhorred them. Twolegs were dangerous to cats and either wanted them dead or enslaved in their nests. Twolegs were the reason that Dawnheart was denounced among his own Clanmates.

Dawnheart shook his head. He would get what he needed from here and leave. He had no reason to feel any kinship with these cats. Sure he had been born alongside the strange Kibby but that was it. His real family was waiting for him.

He straightened up and raised his head. He let a cold, resolute expression fall over his face. He was here for one reason and one reason-

A smell hit his nose. A sweet, calming scent that revived the deepest memories he could have. He turned and found himself staring into his mother’s eyes.


	25. Past

“What possessed you to sneak off to the Moontree by yourself?!” Kestrelfeather’s mew was hoarse from his cough. His green eyes blazed with anger as he paced in front of his apprentice, tail lashing.

Heronpaw bowed his head and stared at the ground. He had snuck back into camp with Hawkpaw earlier that morning and tried to slip into his nest unnoticed. His hopes were dashed when he found Kestrelfeather waiting for them. Hawkpaw was lightly chastised and sent away, leaving Heronpaw to fend for himself. 

“Well?” Kestrelfeather demanded. Heronpaw lifted his head and met his mentor’s eyes.

“I believed that it was the right thing to do.” He said, unflinching.

Kestrelfeather’s eyes widened. “You couldn’t trust our leader and medicine cat?”

“I _was_ trusting our medicine cat.” Heronpaw said. He still held Kestrelfeather’s gaze. The auburn tom opened his mouth but no sound came out. He stared at Heronpaw for a few heartbeats longer before breaking eye contact and shaking his head.

“You are to stay in camp and tend to the elder’s every need for the next quarter-moon.” He said. His shoulders drooped. Heronpaw blinked. He had been expecting a far greater punishment. Instead, Kestrelfeather turned from his apprentice and padded away slowly. His tail dragged along the frozen earth.

Heronpaw watched the warrior go, unnerved. Where had Kestrelfeather’s fight gone?

The sun had risen by now, yet the camp was still. Coughing and groans came from the warrior’s den. A few cats, Swiftwing, Hawkpaw, and Elkheart, sat around the meager fresh-kill pile. Heronpaw looked around, his heart sinking. There was nothing he could do for his Clan now. Dawnheart was their hope.

With a sigh, Heronpaw trudged over to the elder’s den. . . .

It was sunhigh by the time Heronpaw had finished changing the elder’s bedding and bringing them fresh-kill. He now sat beside Hollowtree’s tattered tabby flank and crunched fleas between his teeth. Foxtail lay in her nest, dozing. Beepelt’s absence hung over them like a cloud of heavy fog.

Heronpaw looked up at the old she-cat. She hadn’t even complained that much about the new bedding Heronpaw had brought and her shrew lay half-eaten at her paws. Taking care of her physical needs was one thing, but maybe Heronpaw could do more for the elder.

“Would you like to hear where I went?” Heronpaw asked casually as he snagged a clump of matted hair with his claws. He gently pulled it free.

Hollowtree just grunted but Foxtail’s ears perked up slightly.

“Whatever.” She mumbled into her tail fur. Heronpaw took that as a ‘yes’.

He launched into the story, embellishing it at times. He made their brief encounter with WillowClan seem like a daring escape and spoke of AlderClan like they had almost taken them prisoner. When Heronpaw mentioned the cougar Foxtail lifted her head and settled herself into a more attentive position.

He didn’t have to exaggerate the danger the cougar posed. The truth was exciting enough. His own heart skipped a few beats as he recounted the event. When he got to the fox attack, Foxtail actually gasped. Hollowtree had grown still, his ears pricked.

When Heronpaw finished, Foxtail was looking at him with wide eyes.

“That was quite the story.” She finally said after a few heartbeats. Heronpaw flattened his ears at the praise. “Come over and get my fleas. I’ll tell you what happened while you were gone.”

Heronpaw looked down at Hollowtree who nodded his permission. The apprentice moved across the den and began hunting down Foxtail’s fleas. He listened intently to her account of events. He found himself so drawn in by the story that he stopped catching fleas and just sat there, mouth slightly open.

When Foxtail had finished, she grumpily asked if he was going to help her with her fleas or not. Heronpaw jumped and began pawing through her pelt once more. His mind raced. Foxtail had done her best at recounting events, but she wasn’t at the battle. Heronpaw needed to talk to Hawkpaw again and get an eyewitness account.

He hardly noticed when Foxtail began speaking again.

“All of these deaths, accidents, and disappearances remind me of the season of the great Lake-Freeze.”

Something prodded at the back of Heronpaw’s mind. A vivid memory of crashing through ice into freezing water, and words spoken to him by his dead littermate; “ _The lake will only freeze once again_ ”.

“The great Lake-Freeze?” He asked. Foxtail nodded.

“When I was just a kit there was a season so cold that the lake froze over completely. The Clans had never seen anything like it.” She said. Heronpaw didn’t respond. He hoped his silence would cause the old she-cat to continue. She paused to clean her forepaw and Heronpaw attacked her fleas again.

“Suddenly cats from CedarClan were turning up dead or missing.” Foxtail finally continued. “All in all I think we lost five cats within a moon.”

“Six.” Grunted Hollowtree from the corner. “Blizzardstar’s mother lost a littermate.”

“That was from the cold, not the murderer.” Foxtail replied.

Heronpaw’s stomach lurched. “Murderer?”

Hollowtree snorted. “Foxtail thinks all of the cats were murdered.” He said without opening his eyes. He emphasized the word ‘murdered’ like it was preposterous.

Foxtail flung a piece of moss at her mate and made a _humph_ sound.

“It could’ve happened! What else caused it?” she hissed.

“Bad luck?” Hollowtree opened one eye and shrugged. Foxtail flattened her ears. Heronpaw couldn’t wait any longer.

“What happened?” he blurted out.

“It all started with the disappearance of a warrior named Riverheart.” Foxtail began in a self-satisfied tone. Hollowtree sighed and tucked his tail over his nose and closed his eyes. “She was in good health and a loyal warrior so the Clan was baffled when she vanished.

“A short while after that young warrior was found dead by the PineClan border. His throat had been torn out. At first Bonestar, he was leader at that time, blamed PineClan themselves but there was no scents that proved this theory. In fact, his body was rolled in wild garlic so all scents were indistinguishable.”

Heronpaw tried to keep his paws working on the fleas but the story was making it hard to focus.

“Just a day after that a young queen went missing after a blizzard. They never found her either.”

“Her kits were Blizzardstar’s kin. He was named after the storm that took his grandmother’s life.” Hollowtree added.

Heronpaw froze. He stared blankly head, not seeing the den around him. Instead he was transported back to that terrible dream in which he saw a young she-cat being stalked through a blizzard.

“After that a pair of kits went missing from the camp and an apprentice who went to find them was savaged and killed by what seemed to be a rouge. The final death was a strong warrior who ate death berries to take his own life. Was this the action of a cat who couldn’t handle the devastation that his Clan was going through? Or was it the suicide of a cat who was overcome by guilt?” Foxtail ended her tale with a dramatic flourish. Hollowtree fake groaned and purred.

“You really like telling that part, don’t you?” he said.

“It makes sense!” Foxtail purred back.

Heronpaw was still frozen.

_Only those older than the blizzards themselves will remember._

“Who was she?” He asked, interrupting Foxtail as she teased Hollowtree. She looked up at him and tilted her head.

“Who was who?”

“Who was the young queen?” Heronpaw said. His voice shook. _Could it really be?_

“Her name was Snowbreeze.” Foxtail said. “Her death was the most tragic. She left her kits without a mother and the unnamed father never stepped up to take care of them.”

Heronpaw had stopped listening. The name echoed inside his head like a bird’s cry echoed over the lake. _Snowbreeze._

“I thought you would’ve identified with the apprentice.” Foxtail was saying. “He was a hero and died much too soon.”

“It’s a pity we don’t teach more young cats about him.” Hollowtree agreed with a solemn nod.

“I’m finished.” Heronpaw blurted out. He jumped to his paws and made towards the den entrance. “I’ll bring you more fresh-kill later.”

“Don’t let old Foxtail’s ghost stories get to you.” Hollowtree called after him. “The Lake-Freeze was a terrible time of misfortune, but CedarClan survived. Just like we always will.”

Heronpaw turned to face the old cat. He gave a respectful nod and left the den.

. . .

A short time later Heronpaw found himself sitting high up in a pine tree that edged the camp. He didn’t dare leave and anger Kestrelfeather further, but he needed to be alone.

He closed his eyes and willed the white cat to show herself.

 _Snowbreeze, I know who you are now. Please come out._ He thought. He sat motionless. The sounds of the Clan below drifted up to his ears, distracting him. They had been quiet all day but now, when Heronpaw needed to concentrate, they were making a commotion.

The noises got louder. Heronpaw opened his eyes, annoyed. What was-?

A low, keening cry interrupted his thoughts. His blood ran cold.

“Beepelt! No!” Another cry sounded.

Heronpaw jumped up and scrambled down the tree. He landed on the forest floor and pushed through a hawthorn bush and into the main clearing.

Stonepelt and Shadowgrove were dragging a limp body out into the middle of camp. Plumleaf padded beside them. Her fur was rumpled and her steps were unsteady. Her eyes looked as if she had not slept in days.

Foxtail and Hollowtree were trying to get near the body of their denmate but Whiteshade was holding them back. Cats were pouring out of every den. Their eyes were huge with fear and grief. Heronpaw watched, numb, as the warriors set Beepelt’s body down at the center of the clearing.

The elder had grown sick only a few sunrises ago. Heronpaw was shocked at how fast the striped tom had succumbed.

The cats of CedarClan began to gather around their fallen Clanmate. Plumleaf blocked the way and raised her tail.

“Beepelt has died of greencough.” She announced. Gasps and wails rippled through the cats. Heronpaw’s stomach flipped.

“Only cats that are already exposed to sickness may groom him for burial.” Plumleaf continued.

“He’s our denmate! It’s our duty to bury him!” Foxtail cried from behind Whiteshade. She tried to approach Beepelt but was blocked by Hollowtree. The old she-cat looked up at her mate with a look of stark betrayal in her eyes.

Hollowtree bent and whispered something in her ears but Foxtail shook her head and pulled away.

Stonepelt and Shadowgrove had begun to groom the fallen elder. They both had streaming eyes and paused every once in a while to cough. Other cats with similar symptoms began to pad forward from the warrior’s den and settle down around their Clanmate.

With a horrible lurch of his belly, Heronpaw recognized his mother, Kestrelfeather, and Frayclaw among them. All three sat around Beepelt and began grooming him.

He wanted to bound forward and push them away from the threat. He wanted to protect them from the contagious greencough that could kill even the healthiest warrior, but rationale kept his paws where they were. They all had streaming noses and wheezing breath. They had already been exposed.

Instead he watched as a pitifully small group of cats gathered together on the opposite side of the clearing; Hawkpaw, Crowfrost, Swiftwing, Whiteshade, and the remaining elders. They were the only cats left that weren’t either sick or badly injured from the battle.

Heronpaw took a step back towards the edge of camp. There was nothing he could do. He looked around, noting that no cat had even seemed to notice his presence. With one final glance at his mother he turned and slipped behind the pine tree and into the forest.

Once he was outside of the camp Heronpaw let out the breath he had been holding. He paced underneath a tall cedar. Part of him wanted to race off to Twolegplace and find Dawnheart so he could help. The other part of him knew that was a ridiculous idea. StarClan knew how long it would take Heronpaw to find his friend among the maze-like twoleg nests.

He just had to wait. Wait and pray.

He took a deep, calming breath and turned to continue pacing.

And there she was.

She stood a tail-length away from Heronpaw. Her white fur glowed with a soft light that he hadn’t seen about her before. Her eyes had changed from a misty white to a cool green. Her plumy tail swayed behind her silently.

Heronpaw swallowed, expecting the cold dread that usually accompanied her presence, but it never came. Her head tilted to one side and her eyes shone with genuine, deep emotion.

“You found me.” She said in a soft, airy voice. It shook with relief.

Heronpaw’s feet were glued to the ground. He stared at the cat in front of him, not knowing quite what to do. He had thought that he was ready for this. He had discovered her like Dovekit had told him, but now what?

He settled on a simple question.

“Why me?”

She looked at him and opened her mouth. Her ears flattened and her eyes unfocused for a moment before she met his gaze again.

“You saw me.” She said.

Heronpaw shook his head. “I don’t understand.”

Snowbreeze stepped forward and fixed him with an intense stare.

“You don’t need to understand. What you need to know is that it is happening again.” She said. Her voice had gained a note of desperation.

“What is happening again?” Heronpaw demanded.

“The darkness that took the others and I.” Snowbreeze said. “It’s found another mind to corrupt.”

Heronpaw’s mind whirled. “The darkness?” he said. “Do you mean Greencough?”

Snowbreeze shook her head. “That is a sickness of the body. This is a sickness of the mind.” Her last word was cut off as she stiffened and looked around, her ears pricked and her spine rigid. Heronpaw jumped at her sudden movement and looked around to see what had spooked her.

He squinted into the forest, trying to discern any unusual shapes among the evening shadows. There was nothing. Heronpaw turned back to Snowbreeze. She was still staring into the trees, eyes wide.

“I have questions.” Heronpaw ventured. Snowbreeze came out of her trance and faced him again.

“I don’t have all the answers. I was only a victim.” She said. Her eyes flashed with pain. Heronpaw shivered as he remembered the pure terror of being trapped beneath the frozen lake. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to chase away the memory.

“Why aren’t you in StarClan?” He said, opening his eyes again.

Snowbreeze dropped her chin and flattened her ears. A sudden look of anger split her face into a snarl.

“They forgot us.” She hissed. “They tried to act like it never happened.”

“The elders remember you.” Heronpaw said. He felt the pain behind her anger. It stuck his heart like thorns in his pelt. He took a step towards the she-cat. She backed away from his advance. He froze.

Snowbreeze blinked and the fury in her eyes faded as she met his eyes.

“They remember what they were told.” She said bitterly. “They don’t know the truth.”

“Then tell _me_.” Heronpaw pleaded. “I can help you.”

Snowbreeze gaze a short sigh and looked away from him.

“I’m dead.” She said. Her tone had changed to bittersweet. “No cat can help me now.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Then she looked up and fixed Heronpaw with an intense stare.

“I want to stop what happened to me from ever happening again.” She said.

Heronpaw nodded. A weight lifted off of his chest and he breathed in a shaky gulp of frigid air. Finally he had his answer. This spirit that had been haunting his life was no longer shrouded in mystery.

Then a new weight began to form in his belly. Something terrible had caused cats to die in strange, frightening ways seasons ago and now that something was back. A whole new cascade of fears and questions pelted his brain like hail. His breathing shallowed.

“What happened?” He asked. He couldn’t stop his voice from shaking.

Snowbreeze fluffed out her pelt against a nonexistent wind.

“There was a warrior in my Clan who thought the warrior code was everything.” She began. Her eyes focused on something in the distance that Heronpaw couldn’t see.

“He believed that the code was never to be broken, challenged, or changed. For most of the time that I knew him, he was a model warrior. He was the moral compass of the Clan. Every cat knew that he would be leader one day.” She closed her eyes.

“Until he changed. He began advocating for harsher and harsher punishments for even the smallest of misdeeds. Bonestar saw this change and gave another cat the deputyship when it came time.” Snowbreeze opened her eyes and looked past Heronpaw’s shoulder. There was pain in her gaze.

Heronpaw turned and felt his jaw drop open. Several foxlengths of the forest behind him was changed. It was lush with the greenery of Greenleaf again. A once fallen tree was standing tall once more. The edges of the vision blurred and bled back to Leaf-bare. A large black tom stood among the curling ferns. He wasn’t facing them.

“Thunderstrike.” Snowbreeze breathed. There was a note of awe, pain, and, strangely, longing in her mew. She padded past Heronpaw and into the vision. The large tom turned and greeted her by touching his nose to her ear. Snowbreeze closed her eyes at his touch.

Heronpaw suddenly understood. She had loved this cat before he had changed, and she still loved this memory of him.

“The denial of the deputyship broke him.” Snowbreeze said as she drew her tail along the tom’s flank. “He began to doubt himself and his own loyalty. Even the assurance of cats he loved couldn’t convince him that he was a good and noble warrior.”

The vision began to fade. Ferns wilted and grew brown. The tree fell and died. Thunderstrike stood amidst the rapidly withering forest. He began to walk away from his mate. An unnatural darkness waited for him between the trees. Snowbreeze stood back from and watched as the tom was entirely consumed by the shadows.

“By that time it was too late. To us it looked as if he had fallen to his own fear and insecurity, but I know better now.” She hung her head. “I should have known better then.” She whispered. She stood still in her grief for a moment before turning back to Heronpaw.

“That is not the only sin I am guilty of. I found comfort in the company of a warrior from another Clan.” There was no shame in her posture. She knew what she had done and she owned it. She didn’t care what Heronpaw thought of her.

“I thought that my kits would make him realize what he had lost. I thought that if he knew what his change had driven me to it would change him.” Her eyes widened as if she was remembering something fearful. “I was wrong. Something broke in him that day. The final brace keeping his madness at bay splintered.”

She clamped her jaws shut. Heronpaw could almost hear the wail of pain that she had silenced.

“So he killed them.” Heronpaw said softly. Snowbreeze nodded, her eyes squeezing shut.

“Any cat he deemed a traitor to the warrior code deserved to die. Riverheart crossed into PineClan territory while chasing a squirrel. Thunderstrike chased her onto the Thunderpath in turn. The young warrior Mapleflight loved the medicine cat apprentice. He had confessed to her and was waiting to meet her when Thunderstrike attacked.” Her voice was ragged but she kept going. Her story needed to be told.

“That’s when he turned on me. He followed me out of camp one night. I was going to break contact with the father of my kits. They didn’t need him, and neither did I. As you saw I never got there.

“Once I was dead I could see it; a dark shroud hanging over Thunderstrike’s head. It whispered in his ear, telling him that StarClan would honor his great deeds. He obeyed it’s every command. I went to StarClan and demanded to know what was happening to him. They said it was madness.”

Thunderstrike’s form reappeared from the distant darkness. He was walking slowly and deliberately towards his mate. A dark mist seemed to flow outward like water from his edges. Snowbreeze gave his return no heed.

“I knew it wasn’t true. StarClan refused to help me so I turned my back on them.” Her voice had grown bitter. “But there was nothing I could do to save him. I was tossed away from his dreams by an unknown force. In my desperation I took to appearing to him in his waking hours, but he ignored me.

“Inevitably, he found another cat to punish. A pair of kits had gone missing from the nursery. The whole Clan was in a panic.” Snowbreeze’s voice cracked.

“Thunderstrike found an apprentice standing over the injured and unconscious kits with bloodied paws. There was no mercy. He struck the apprentice down without a thought.”

The vision of Thunderstrike was getting closer now. Heronpaw could make out the glint of green eyes, full of hatred. He had to remind himself that it wasn’t real. Snowbreeze was just showing him her memory.

“But then the kits woke up. They asked where their hero had gone. They apologized for making everycat worry. They just wanted to see the outside of camp!”

Heronpaw felt a chill run across his skin.

“They had been attacked by a weasel and the apprentice had come to their rescue. Thunderstrike had murdered an innocent.” At Snowbreeze’s words, Thunderstrike stopped dead. He was only a fox length from her now.

“It _shattered_ him.” Snowbreeze choked out. “His mind was freed by its destruction. The only thing left for him to do was enact punishment.”

“So he ate the death berries.” Heronpaw finished. Snowbreeze had relived enough of this horror for him. He didn’t want her to have to speak of her mate’s suicide.

The white she-cat turned to face Heronpaw. The scent of raw grief hit Heronpaw like a wave of thundering water. He flinched away from the suffocating pain. After a few frenzied heartbeats the grief began to ebb away.

“Now he wanders outside of StarClan like I do, endlessly punishing himself for his crimes.” Snowbreeze continued. She took a moment to compose herself. Then she met Heronpaw’s gaze again. “Whatever force that stole Thunderstrike’s mind is back. I can feel its influence hanging over the forest.”

Heronpaw flicked his eyes back to the unmoving image of Thunderstrike. The blackness still whisked off of his pelt but his body was as still as stone. Heronpaw tore his gaze away.

“Who is it targeting?” He asked.

Snowbreeze shook her head. “I don’t know. I feel it everywhere.”

Heronpaw shivered. An unseen entity could be poisoning the minds of his Clanmates and there was no way he could know?

“What do I do?” he said. His tail twitched. He could feel the vision’s gaze boring into him.

“Watch for dramatic changes in cats you know.” Snowbreeze said. She padded up to him. Her paws made no sound or print as they skimmed the snow. “Now that you’ve found me I can help more.”

Heronpaw nodded but found that the continued presence of Thunderstrike’s shadow was becoming too much to bear.

“Snowbreeze,” he began. “Can you take away the vision?”

She cocked her head.

“I did.” She said.

Thunderstrike lunged.


	26. Heart

Dawnheart found himself face to face with a cat he had never met, a cat he had no memory of, and yet his heart twisted as the realization of who she was washed over him. Her striking blue eyes hungrily swept over his face. She was shorter than he was, and plumper. Her distinctive gray-brown markings matched his own.

Her eyes grew wide and shone with the same light that used to sparkle in Spottedfur’s gaze. Jasmine stepped forward and lifted a small, shaking paw to his face. The gesture was like nothing any Clan cat had ever done, but Dawnheart could feel the tender emotion behind it.

She brushed his cheek lightly with her paw. He shivered at her touch.

“My baby,” She said. Her voice quavered. “StarClan promised I would see you again, but I didn’t dare hope-” Her words were choked off by a tight gasp. She stepped back and looked up at him.

“I...” Dawnheart managed to say. His thoughts flew to Spottedfur and Lilypool. They had nursed him, raised him, protected and fought for him. All that this cat had done was give him away to a life of hardship, pain, and loss.

And yet as he remembered his mothers, he also remembered the joyous days of kithood. He thought of the warmth of newleaf and the taste of fresh caught mouse. He felt within him an echo of the excitement and pride that had filled him the day he was made an apprentice. He thought of Frayclaw and standing beside him at their warrior ceremony.

He saw the pain, grief, and pride of a mother reflected in Jasmine’s eyes, and he knew he could not judge her. She had given him the gift of his life as a warrior. Where had she found the strength?

He leaned forward and brushed his cheek against hers. He felt her stiffen and then relax. A purr rose in her throat, so loud it made Dawnheart’s whiskers vibrate.

“Hello, mother.” Dawnheart said into her neck fur. She somehow purred louder.

“My kit, my Ginseng,” Jasmine purred. She froze for a moment and then backed up quickly until they were face to face again. Her eyes were just as round as Kibby’s and they seemed to grow just as wide.

“But that isn’t your name!” she gasped. “The Clan would’ve given you a proper one!” Dawnheart had expected to see sadness in her eyes but all he saw was excitement and pride.

“Um, yes,” Dawnheart said, trying to stifle a bemused purr. “I was named Dawnheart.”

Jasmine gave a little skip and a squeal of joy.

“A warrior! Already? And what a noble name!” She bounced up and nuzzled Dawnheart’s neck. He heard a muted _mrrow_ of laughter and looked up to see Oliver and Kibby standing just off to the side. Oliver was looking sternly at his denmate while she looked sheepishly from behind his ringed tail.

Dawnheart shook his head slightly. His sister was as bad as a chatty apprentice. The Clan would never let him live it down if they found out he was related to such a puff-ball.

His belly lurched. The Clan. They needed the catmint. He was wasting time. He pulled away from Jasmine.

“It’s great to meet you,” he said. “But I have something I need to find.”

Jasmine twitched an ear. “Catmint, right?”

Dawnheart nodded, hopeful.

“You’re in luck! My human grew some in the house just for me.” Jasmine said brightly. By her tone it was obvious that she didn’t quite know just how important what she just said was. A wave of relief flooded through Dawnheart. The catmint had survived. His Clan would survive.

“Show me.” Dawnheart said quickly.

Jasmine nodded and turned towards the Twoleg nest. She flicked her tail, indicating for him to follow. Dawnheart glanced at Oliver and Kibby.

“We’ll stay here.” Oliver said. Kibby shot him a betrayed look. He nudged her and muttered something in her ear. The she-cat kicked at a pinecone at her paws but didn’t complain.

Dawnheart nodded to Oliver and followed Jasmine away.

He looked up at the looming, unnatural structure. Dead ivy crisscrossed the red, rock-like walls. Several holes were cut out of the face and had been filled with a reflective substance. It was like the surface of the lake, but no ripples crossed the face. As they grew closer Dawnheart could feel his skin crawling beneath his pelt.

Jasmine hopped lightly onto some angular, stacked stones. Dawnheart hesitated. He had managed to avoid direct contact with any twoleg thing so far. His belly squirmed at the thought of setting paw on this unnatural structure.

“Are you alright?” Jasmine said from the top of the stack. Dawnheart looked up at her curious face and shook himself. A warrior of CedarClan wasn’t afraid of anything, let alone silly twoleg things. He took a breath and leapt up the rocks in two bounds.

He landed next to Jasmine and gave her a curt nod. She turned and walked right up to the slab of wood that had swung open earlier. To Dawnheart’s horror, Jasmine opened her jaws and let out a yowl.

A silhouette moved behind the glassy holes in the wood. He heard the inquisitive call of a twoleg and something much more alarming; the rough bark of a dog.

Instinct taking over, Dawnheart spun and scrambled back down the stones. He dove into the cluster of snowy, leafless bushes that flanked the nest.

Heart pounding, Dawnheart huddled under the bush and listened. He heard a creak and the twoleg’s call got louder. It raised in confusion. The dog barked again and the twoleg scolded it with a snap. After a moment there was another creak and a click and the twoleg’s voice faded away. Dawnheart exhaled and let himself relax slightly.

A rustling announced Jasmine squeezing under the bush next to him. He felt his ears grow hot with shame. A brave CedarClan warrior, indeed.

“I’m sorry!” Jasmine gasped. She touched his ear with her nose. “I forgot that you aren’t used to dogs and twolegs.”

“It’s fine. I was just startled.” Dawnheart said. At least he could keep his voice from shaking. “Could we find another way in?”

Jasmine cocked her head in thought.

“I could distract Skarloey while you slip inside.” She said after a moment. “The catmint is in the kitchen.”

Dawnheart’s head spun. “Skarloey? Kitchen?”

“Skarloey is the dog. The kitchen is where my human makes food. You’ll be able to smell it.” Jasmine was getting to her paws. Dawnheart reluctantly did so too.

“Once I’ve gotten Skarloey to follow me, my human will chase us both. Then you can go inside.” Jasmine explained. “Go left to get to the kitchen. The catmint is on the windowsill.”

Dawnheart nodded and before he could remember to ask what a ‘windowsill’ was, Jasmine had ducked out from under the bush.

Dawnheart waited. He heard Jasmine yowl again. The dog began to bark again and a frustrated sounding twoleg called out. The creak of the door followed. A moment later there was a flurry of barks and the sound of claws against stone. Dawnheart watched from behind branches as Jasmine sped across the snowy ground away from the nest. A tall, white and brown dog with curly fur chased after her.

Dawnheart’s warrior instincts demanded that he rush to Jasmine’s aid and stand against the enemy, but as he watched he saw a playful familiarity in the chase. Jasmine was hardly trying to stay ahead of the dog, and in return the animal was nipping at her tail with a soft mouth. It was almost like they were denmates playing a game of hunter and prey.

A loud call from the twoleg jolted Dawnheart out of his slack-jawed amazement. He watched as a short, stooped female twoleg bustled across the snow after Jasmine and the dog. This was his chance. Dawnheart leapt up out of the bush and up the steps.

Without pausing to think or let his fear turn his paws away, Dawnheart sped past the wooden slab and into an entirely different world.

A storm of new scents and sounds bombarded his senses. His paws skidded on the suddenly smooth ground and he yelped as he smacked against a solid wall. Dazed, he got to his paws and tried to gather himself.

The light of sun-high streamed into the nest through the opening he had run through. It was almost blinding. He turned to the left and opened his mouth, trying to scent something familiar. Everything reeked of dog and twoleg. Jasmine’s scent was here too, but all the unfamiliar smells were drowning her out.

Dawnheart scrambled across the weird, smooth floor and underneath a structure that looked like it was made from a tree. He crept along beneath it, trying to calm his thumping heart.

 _Just move. Find the catmint and get out._ He thought.

He closed his eyes and drew in the cacophony of scents. There! A pungent, intoxicating scent was wafting to him from the left. He wriggled out from under his hiding place and skittered across the floor, his claws clacking uncomfortably on the hard surface.

He found himself in a large room with sunlight pouring through a pane of the transparent stuff. There were other tall wooden twoleg things in here as well, but Dawnheart tried to ignore them. He only needed one thing. His eyes fell on a clump of green sitting on a ledge below the see-through wall. His heart soared.

He ducked beneath what looked like several saplings that were holding up a slab of wood and jumped up onto the ledge. A curious black box overflowing with soft green leaves sat before him. The scent of them made his mouth fill with water. He leaned forward jaws slightly parted. Great StarClan, it smelled so _good._ Surely one leaf wouldn’t be missed.

An image of Frayclaw’s face, ragged and crusted with sickness, burst in Dawnheart’s mind. Shame burned at his ears. This was going to save Frayclaw and CedarClan. Every leaf was precious.

Dawnheart paused. Every leaf _was_ precious. How was he going to get them all home? He sniffed at the box and pushed at it with one paw. It was much too heavy to pick up.

The shout of the twoleg made Dawnheart jump. He was running out of time. Shoving down panic, he tried to think.

The dog barked; a high pitched, excited sound.

“No, chase me! Don’t go in there!” Jasmine’s yowl made Dawnheart’s belly lurch. A scrabbling sound announced that the dog had caught his scent and had followed him into the den.

Fear overcame Dawnheart for a heartbeat, but thoughts of Frayclaw and the Clan drove away the instinctive terror. He held his ground as the dog rocketed into the kitchen. It caught sight of Dawnheart almost immediately and pelted over.

The dog began jumping up on the wall. Its white curly fur was clumped with snow and its dark eyes were bright with excitement. Dawnheart arched his spine and pressed himself against the window. Every muscle in his body screamed to flee but he forced his paws to stay.

The dog wasn’t quite tall enough to reach Dawnheart and it began to whine in frustration. Dawnheart unsheathed his claws and hissed.

“Go away.” He spat. The dog dropped to its paws and cocked its head. It whined and made to jump up again. Dawnheart felt a surge of fury and swiped at the animal.

“Go _away!_ ” he repeated. His claws barely missed the dog’s shiny black nose. It whined again and backed away from Dawnheart’s perch. Jasmine sped into the room and skidded to a halt behind the dog. Her eyes were wide and her tail was bushed out in distress.

She opened her mouth to say something but was cut off as her twoleg ambled in behind her. The old twoleg was shorter than most adult twolegs Dawnheart had seen at the lakeside in Greenleaf. She had curly gray hair on her head and wore a variety of colored pelts. She reached a shaky, naked paw towards Dawnheart and made a surprised noise. Dawnheart froze.

The twoleg patted her leg and snapped a sharp command at the dog. It immediately turned and skulked away. Jasmine turned her nose up at it as it passed.

The twoleg took a step towards Dawnheart. He arched his back and leaned away from her. His heart pounded. He had never been this close to a twoleg before. The smell was strange; floral and musky. As he breathed in rapidly, her scent touched a buried memory.

He blinked wide eyes. The twoleg made a nickering sound and held out her thin paw. Dawnheart’s chest pounded but he couldn’t bring himself to move. Did he recognize this twoleg? Her green eyes were soft as she looked at him. There were such strong emotions there that Dawnheart was taken aback. Twolegs weren’t supposed to feel like cats felt.

His brain screamed at him to move as the twoleg’s fingers reached for his ears, but he couldn’t bring himself to move. Part of him wondered how it would feel. It could be terrible and strange as the stories said it would be, or it could be even worse; he might find that he was comforted by her touch.

The moment that her fingers brushed Dawnheart’s ear fur his instincts took over. He flung himself down onto the smooth, slippery floor. As his paws landed he heard a loud crash from behind him. The sudden noise sent him into a terror fueled frenzy as he pelted away from the twoleg. He barely heard Jasmine calling after him as he rounded the corner and dashed out the door.

Primal fear drove his paws and blinded his vision as he bounded across the snow and back into the trees. He ran without thought until he came upon a break in the trunks. Unwilling to leave the safety of branches over his head Dawnheart slowed and huddled beneath a hawthorn bush.

He sat, tail wrapped around his paws and spine hunched. His heavy breath misted out from his open mouth. He didn’t feel the cold and yet he shivered. A twoleg had almost _touched_ him. And he had almost _let it_ happen. Great StarClan what was wrong with him?

Shame as hot as the snow was cold burned at his ears. He had failed his Clan. He had been chosen for this and he had absolutely failed.

 _Why did you send me here?_ Dawnheart wailed inwardly to StarClan. _Was it to show me that I don’t belong in CedarClan?_

He remembered the words of Petalpaw’s prophecy. _‘Follow his heart’_ … He had felt comfortable with kitty-pets. He had entered a twoleg’s nest and almost let one touch him. He felt familial connection to these cats that he had never met before.

 _Does my heart belong here?_ He thought. Grief welled up in his throat, potent enough to make his eyes water and his heart ache. Spottedfur and Blackmoth’s lifeless faces flashed in his mind’s eye. Sootcloud and Lilypool’s scents evaded him. He thought of Frayclaw’s voice, his scent, and his eyes.

Dawnheart wanted to wail like a kit.

Instead he rested his chin on his paws and flattened his ears. He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping to block out the world and all of its pain.


	27. Path

Heronpaw only had a split second to react as the shadowy cat leapt for him. He ducked and rolled out of the way just as the assailant’s paws hit the ground.

Mind reeling, Heronpaw scrambled to his feet and faced his attacker. His belly lurched as he recognized the twisted face.

“Slatefoot?” Heronpaw gasped. The gray tabby froze and stared down at Heronpaw. His eyes widened and his top lip twitched in and out of a snarl.

“I thought…” The warrior shook his head violently. “I thought you were someone else.” He said. He sounded confused, as if he had just emerged from a dream. He blinked a few times. 

Heronpaw took a deep breath, trying to calm his thudding heart.

_Me too._ He thought to himself. The late afternoon shadows must have fooled Heronpaw into thinking that Slatefoot was Thunderstrike. He didn’t dwell on why or how that could’ve happened.

“Were you talking to someone?” Slatefoot said coldly. The twitch was gone from his face and his fur was relaxing over his shoulders.

Heronpaw looked around, trying to act natural. Snowbreeze had vanished.

“No.” He said.

The sound of pawsteps made Heronpaw and Slatefoot turn. Crowfrost was approaching through the tree trunks at a trot. He slowed as he caught sight of his Clanmates. His blue eyes narrowed as they settled on Heronpaw.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in camp?” Crowfrost said. Heronpaw’s pelt prickled with annoyance.

“I don’t remember Blizzardstar appointing you as my mentor.” He shot back. Heronpaw immediately regretted his words. He backtracked. “But you’re right. I just needed some air after Beepelt…” He trailed off. He looked into his brother’s eyes hoping to find that understanding cat he knew somewhere in the blue depths.

There was a moment where Heronpaw thought he saw a glimmer of sympathy in the blue depths he used to know so well. His hope was extinguished as the light in Crowfrost’s eyes went out. The warrior’s expression hardened.

“You can’t keep doing this.” He said. “The warrior code isn’t something you can just ignore.”

Heronpaw opened his mouth to retort but he stopped himself. Crowfrost wouldn’t understand. To his eyes Heronpaw had left Petalpaw in AlderClan for no reason, the Clan was still sick, and Heronpaw hadn’t been there to defend his territory.

Still, the old Crowfrost would have wanted to understand. He would’ve listened. A stab of grief pierced Heronpaw’s heart for his lost littermate. In a matter of days their relationship had shattered like the surface of a frozen puddle.

Heronpaw raised his head and stiffened.

“I apologize.” He said. He let the insolence he had been holding back show this time. Crowfrost narrowed his eyes but said nothing.

“I’ll go right back to camp.” Heronpaw said with mock humility. He spun and marched away the way he had come. He pushed aside a skeletal laurel bush and squeezed his way between two trees, fuming all the while.

Crowfrost had no idea. Once Dawnheart returned with the catmint he would see. Petalpaw would come back any time now and help Plumleaf treat the rest of the battle worn cats. Satisfaction bloomed in Heronpaw’s chest as he imagined the look on Crowfrost’s face when he realized that Heronpaw had been right.

Lost in thought, Heronpaw wasn’t watching where he was going. As he re-entered camp he nearly ran headfirst into Plumleaf’s back. He dodged to the side, twisting his paw in the process. He hissed at the discomfort.

Plumleaf cast him a sidelong glance through narrowed brown eyes. They widened as they fell on the apprentice. They stared at each other for a long moment. Heronpaw noted that the medicine cat’s pelt had been groomed and the remains of a bird lay at her paws. Her once plump frame was slimming with every passing day and her fur was still slightly rumpled

“You’re different.” Plumleaf finally said. Her mew was a croak. Heronpaw met her eyes again. He nodded.

“You found your answers then?” the medicine cat said.

Heronpaw started.

“How did you-“

Plumleaf cut him off with a snort and a wave of her tail.

“You think I’m as blind as everyone else?” she said. “You really think I didn’t know what you and Petalpaw were planning?”

Stunned, Heronpaw just blinked. Plumleaf rolled her eyes.

“I knew you were dense but I didn’t think you were _this_ dense.” She paused and looked out over the clearing. Cats were still gathered around Beepelt’s body in the center of camp. Plumleaf continued. “Although you did leave Petalpaw in AlderClan so I guess I’m not that surprised.”

“She didn’t really give me a choice.” Heronpaw said. He settled down on his haunches next to the medicine cat. His first encounter with her since his return was going better than he had expected.

“Stubborn, that one.” Plumleaf grumbled. Heronpaw glanced at her and saw a gleam of pride in her tired eyes.

“You aren’t angry?” Heronpaw said. Her reaction was so far removed from Blizzardstar’s that Heronpaw’s first reaction was to distrust everything she said. He almost took a step back, expecting the dam to break at any moment.

“Of course not.” Plumleaf said. She sniffed.

Heronpaw’s head spun.

“But you didn’t want to go to the Moontree. You said that you couldn’t.” he said.

“ _I_ couldn’t. I never said anything about _her._ ” Plumleaf shrugged.

“But Beepelt!” Heronpaw stammered. Plumleaf’s shoulders sagged slightly.

“It was his time.” She said in a softer voice.

Heronpaw was still struggling to understand. His brain felt muddy.

“So it was a test?” He said.

Plumleaf turned to face Heronpaw. “She needed a push. She will have to be strong for what lies ahead.”

Heronpaw searched the medicine cat’s tired face.

“Do you know what is coming?” He asked. Plumleaf heaved a great sigh.

“StarClan has sent me signs of an approaching danger,” She said, “but nothing more.”

Heronpaw’s paws pricked with annoyance.

“Aren’t you frustrated?” he blurt out.

Plumleaf eyed him. Her back straightened and the steely glint in her eyes returned.

“I trust StarClan.” She said.

Heronpaw opened his mouth. He was almost ready to tell Plumleaf about his vision of Dovekit and everything she had told him. He wanted to tell her about Snowbreeze and how StarClan had turned their backs on her. Why hadn’t StarClan just told Plumleaf where the catmint was? Why did they have to be so vague about everything?

His sudden rush of anger silenced any words that Heronpaw might’ve said. If StarClan had been transparent about the catmint he and Petalpaw would never have had to risk themselves to get the prophecy. She would be here right now instead of stuck in enemy territory. Dawnheart wouldn’t be alone in Twolegplace. Heronpaw grit his teeth.

Crowfrost wouldn’t hate him.

“Peace, Heronpaw.” Plumleaf said. She laid her plumy tail across his back. He flinched at her touch. Their eyes met. Her gaze softened.

“You did the right thing.” She said. Heronpaw clenched his teeth and didn’t respond.

The medicine cat rose to her paws and stretched. Without another word she padded down the frosted slope and back towards her den.

Heronpaw sat in the cold with only his worries to keep him company, wondering how he had come to be so alone.

. . .

“Dawnheart?”

The call was soft, not frantic. After a moment Dawnheart opened his eyes. A light snow was falling beyond the shelter of his bush. The sound of pawsteps drew nearer to his hiding place and then stopped.

“Dawnheart is that you?” Jasmine’s mew was anxious.

Now that his eyes were open he didn’t feel like blinking them. He stared straight ahead for a moment. A snowflake danced down from the sky and landed on his nose. It was cold.

A shadow fell across his head and he finally looked up. Jasmine’s narrow, worried face hovered over him. Her ears were flat to her head and her fur was fluffed up against the cold. She looked completely out of place with her glossy fur and bright, stiff tendril around her neck.

“Are you injured?” Jasmine said. She ducked down under the hawthorn bush’s branches and began to shove herself in beside him. It became apparent that she would get in whether Dawnheart wanted her to or not so he shifted over to make room.

She sniffed at his pelt and looked him over with wide eyes.

“Skarloey didn’t get you, did he?” She mumbled into his pelt.

Dawnheart shook his head. He leaned away from her prying nose and their eyes met. Her eyes searched his face. The question that had not left his mind since he heard her name finally forced its way to the surface.

“Why did you give me away?”

Jasmine blinked and dropped her gaze. There was a moment of silence.

“I…it’s a long story.” She said. She looked back up at him. Dawnheart didn’t say anything. He just held her gaze and waited. Seeming to sense that he was willing to listen, Jasmine sighed and closed her eyes. She shifted her position so they were sitting side-by-side. They looked out at the snow fall together. Then she began.

“When I was a kit my mother took my littermates and I out into the garden.” Jasmine tucked her front paws under her chest and fully settled down.

“There was this cat, Hope, who lived in the next garden who wanted to meet us. At first I was scared because she only had three legs and was old and scarred, but as I got to know her I began to love her.” Jasmine’s voice softened and her eyes glowed with the memory.

“I would go out into the garden every day and listen to her stories. She would tell my sisters and I about Clans of cats who lived in the forest. She told us tales of great battles and noble leaders, and a way of life I couldn’t begin to imagine.

“I had my comfortable bed and all the food I could ever eat, but these cats lived off the land. They nested in leaves and moss, ate live prey, and fought each other to protect their Clans and their territory.” Jasmine paused and breathed a long sigh. Her eyes sparkled. 

“It was _wonderful_.

“As I grew older, my sisters dismissed Hope’s stories as just stories, but I wanted them to be true. I snuck out one night to visit her and I asked; was CedarClan real?”

Jasmine turned her head to face Dawnheart.

“Well, you know what her answer was.” She said with a half-purr. Her moment of joy faded and her eyes grew distant. She continued.

“One day a human came and took me away. I didn’t want to go, but mother assured me this is how things were. I knew better. I knew that forest cats lived by their own rules. They didn’t have to leave their family and live with humans.” Bitterness tinged Jasmine’s words. Dawnheart blinked in surprise. Did she hate being a kitty-pet?

“Seasons passed with my new humans. I grew to like them, but never as much as I had loved my first home. I missed my mother, my sisters, and Hope.

“On the second winter, that’s what we call leaf-bare, my human male put me in his monster and drove me away from my house. I thought it was happening again, that I was being passed along to a new human who I would have to get used to all over again.” Jasmine shivered.

“But that didn’t happen. He brought me here. Back home.”

“You were born here?” Dawnheart said. He straightened up a little and perked his ears. Jasmine nodded.

“I don’t know why they brought me back. I will always be grateful to them for the home they gave me and they treated me well, but I was so glad to be back.

“My sisters had gone to new humans but my mother was still here. Hope was too, and I was so glad to have her back. We spent so many days just talking and reminiscing.” Jasmine’s mew drifted off as she thought back to simpler times. She spent so long silent that Dawnheart began to feel uncomfortable. He was about to prompt her when she spoke again.

“Then I met your father.”

Dawnheart froze. His father? The word brought Sootcloud’s scent to his memory, but of course Sootcloud hadn’t been the cat that had fathered him. The feeling that accompanied that thought was strange.

“Mulligan was the most charming cat I had ever met. He treated me like I was the most important cat in the world and I fell for him almost instantly. We would meet in my garden at night and go running in the trees. I would tell him about the Clans and he would tell me stories from when he lived in a city.”

“A city?” Dawnheart managed to ask. His mouth felt very dry.

“It’s a human place full of huge houses the size of mountains and monsters roaming everywhere.” Jasmine shuddered. “It sounded awful! But Mulligan said it was an adventure.”

Dawnheart silently agreed with Jasmine.

“After a while I started to feel sick and tired all the time. My human took me to a place where they prodded and poked me all over. When I came home my mother told me that I was expecting kits.” Jasmine’s eyes sparkled and she looked up at Dawnheart.

“She had never approved of Mulligan and I.” Jasmine dropped her gaze and looked out at the falling snow.

“She told me I was supposed to mate with a cat like me. That’s what she had done. That’s what her mother and my sisters had done, but that wasn’t what I wanted. I loved Mulligan and I loved the kits inside of me.”

Dawnheart looked down at Jasmine. Her voice had wavered slightly. This was becoming painful for her to say.

“A moon later my mother left. A human came and took her away. She wouldn’t even say goodbye to me.” Jasmine’s voice was small now and her gaze had fixed on her paws.

“I was so upset that I snuck out so I could see Mulligan. I waited for him all night but he never came. I never saw…” Her voice caught in her throat and she gave a little gasp. Dawnheart’s chest tightened for her.

“I never saw him again.” She finished after a moment. She closed her eyes and exhaled a single, shaking breath.

Dawnheart let her have her time. It only took her a few more moments to regain her composure. When she spoke again her voice was steady.

“I went to Hope that night. She grieved with me and held me close. I fell asleep curled against her, and I had a dream.” Jasmine looked up and held Dawnheart’s gaze. A new emotion sparked there in the blue depths. Was it awe?

“I saw a cat who looked like me but he was among the wild cats. He fought, hunted, and survived alongside them. I watched as he grew into a great warrior, loved by his Clanmates and respected by all he knew.” Jasmine’s gaze intensified. Dawnheart could only stare back. His mind whirled as her story continued.

“At the end of the dream he turned to me and I knew he was mine. I knew he was Mulligan’s. Then he spoke. ‘It’s your choice,’ he said to me, and I woke.

“I told Hope what I had seen and she in turn told me of StarClan. She told me how the spirits of all warriors watch over and guide them from the stars. She told me how they spoke to their kin in dreams and put their paws on the right paths.”

Dawnheart finally blinked.

“How did she know?” he said. His voice was small and hoarse.

Jasmine gave her head a little shake.

“Her real name was Riverheart.” She said.

Dawnheart’s mouth dropped open.

“A Clan cat?” he gasped.

Jasmine nodded.

“She said that she was injured on the Thunderpath when she was a warrior. Humans came and took her away with them. They did everything they could to save her, and that meant she lost her leg.

“For a long time she resented the humans for hurting her and taking her away from her home. As time went by though she began to see that the humans had saved her life and taken her in. She knew that she couldn’t be the best warrior she could be with her injuries.” Jasmine looked up and met Dawnheart’s gaze.

“She never stopped believing that StarClan was guiding her.” She said.

“What happened to her?” Dawnheart whispered.

Jasmine’s ears drooped slightly and she looked down at her side.

“She got sick. She died a few weeks after you were born.” She closed her eyes for a moment. She opened them again. Their blue depths shone with faded sadness.

“I took you kits to see her once.” The sadness was replaced by a gleam of amusement for a moment. “You took to each other like dew to morning grass.” A purr rose in her throat. “She told me you had the heart of a warrior.” Her eyes dulled slightly.

“What did you think?” Dawnheart said.

Jasmine found his eyes with her own.

“I knew who you were the moment I met you.” She said in a quiet voice.

Warmth spread through Dawnheart at her words. The cold, empty feeling of confusion and doubt he had been feeling was chased away as he looked into his mother’s eyes. StarClan had touched so many lives just so he could be here today as a warrior of CedarClan.

“Thank you.” Dawnheart said after a moment. His voice shook. Jasmine purred deeply. She head-butted him softly in the chest.

“I didn’t want to give you up.” She admitted into his chest fur. “But I knew the forest was where your heart belonged.”

Dawnheart rested his chin on her head and purred in response.

“What now?” Jasmine asked. She drew away from him and looked out at the gently falling snow.

Dawnheart rose to his feet and slipped out from beneath the skeletal branches of the bush. He shook some leafy debris from his coat and turned to face the way he had come. There was no uncertainty in his heart now. StarClan had guided many paws to bring him here. It was time for him to finish this task.

“Now I save my Clan.”


	28. Dusk

Frayclaw didn’t want to be still. His mind screamed at him to go, to run into the forest in search of Dawnheart. He wanted to let his fear carry his paws to Dawnheart’s side, but his limbs and his lungs cried out at the mere thought. His whitecough ridden body was useless to him now, and his forced inaction was becoming unacceptable.

“Where did he go?” Whiteshade demanded of the two apprentices at his feet. Heronpaw and Hawkpaw sat surrounded by agitated warriors with their heads dipped below their shoulder blades. They had been caught in their lie. They knew where Dawnheart was. They had known all this time.

Frayclaw watched from beyond the group of warriors as Heronpaw cast a sideways glance at his brother. The meaning in that glance was perfectly plain. Hawkpaw hesitated. Heronpaw stayed silent. Frayclaw had had enough.

“Where is he?” Frayclaw forced the words from his ragged throat. He rose to shaking paws and stumbled forward. He pushed past his fellow warriors and came face-to-face with Heronpaw. The apprentice’s yellow eyes widened slightly but his gaze remained hardened.

“Frayclaw.” Whiteshade said. He moved to come between warrior and apprentice. The deputy caught the warrior’s eye with a sharp amber gaze.

Whiteshade expected Frayclaw to back down. That made Frayclaw angrier. He opened his mouth to retort but a sudden movement caught his eye.

“They’re back!” Specklepaw called from next to the fresh-kill pile.

Frayclaw looked up to see what could hardly be called a ‘patrol’ re-entering camp. Swiftwing wasted no time in marching right up to Whiteshade. Crowfrost followed at a more relaxed pace. Dawnheart wasn’t with them.

“Well?” Whiteshade said as the group of warriors moved aside to let Swiftwing through. The black and white warrior cast a glance at the gathered cats. His eyes lingered on Frayclaw and Slatefoot in particular.

Frayclaw dug his claws into the frozen earth. _Just speak!_ He thought.

“We followed his scent to the dawn-wards most part of the territory.” Swiftwing said. He paused and shot another look at Slatefoot. “It seemed to be leading towards Twolegplace.”

Frayclaw went cold. _Twolegplace?_ Why was Dawnheart going there? Explanations that Frayclaw didn’t want to consider clamored in the back of his mind. His legs became so weak that he had to slump to his haunches.

“He couldn’t take the struggle.” Slatefoot growled under his breath.

Frayclaw’s neck fur bristled and he swung his head around to face the warrior but something about the tabby’s expression gave Frayclaw pause. Slatefoot’s eyes were dark. There was a strange emotion in those depths. Relief?

“That’s not true!” Heronpaw cried. The apprentice jumped to his feet.

Hope soared in Frayclaw’s chest.

“Dawnheart would never betray CedarClan.” Hawkpaw added. He joined his brother.

The wings of hope inside of Frayclaw were suddenly clipped by shame. How could he have ever thought otherwise?

Whiteshade scrutinized the apprentices with his piercing amber gaze.

“What makes you say that?” He said.

Heronpaw closed his mouth and met the deputy’s eyes. The apprentice sat again and said no more.

A jumble of protests rose up among the gathered warriors. Frayclaw couldn’t bring himself to join in. He stared at Heronpaw.

Yellow eyes met gray. A tiny nod. That was all Frayclaw got.

“That wasn’t all we found.”

All eyes were drawn to Crowfrost who until now had been sitting silently at the edge of the group. The new warrior lifted his chin.

“We scented the rogues.”

Gasps and yowls of anger met the words. Frayclaw could only muster a muted sense of surprise.

“Are you sure?” Whiteshade snapped.

Crowfrost and Swiftwing nodded.

“I will never forget their stench.” Swiftwing said. His lips drew back in a snarl.

“How many?” Whiteshade’s eyes narrowed as he spoke.

“One.” Crowfrost said. “On the edge of the Twoleg path.”

Whiteshade blinked his amber eyes once and stiffened his shoulders.

“Swiftwing, report to Blizzardstar. He’s resting in his den. The rest of you,” Whiteshade raised his voice to top the clamor of voices, “I need on patrols.”

There was a grumbling of malcontent but the noise died down and Whiteshade began assigning patrols to the warriors well enough to go out in the cold.

Frayclaw sat among them and waited.

Whiteshade turned to the apprentices after he sent away the last of the warriors with a warning to keep a nose out for more rogue scent.

“You two.” He began. “I need you out there hunting.”

Heronpaw’s ears perked up.

“Kestrelfeather has me confined to camp.”

Whiteshade shook his head.

“We cannot afford to be wasting able hunters. I’ll have Kestrelfeather think up another punishment.” Whiteshade punctuated the statement with a dismissive flick of his tail.

Heronpaw shrugged at his brother and together they rose to their paws and bounded away.

Frayclaw stood up. The movement seemed to catch Whiteshade’s eye. The deputy looked Frayclaw up and down.

“You should rest.” He said. There was no interpretation to be made in the words.

“Fresh-kill.” Frayclaw gestured to the meager pile with his tail.

Whiteshade narrowed his eyes. Frayclaw tried to look innocent. He sniffed loudly and gave a little cough for emphasis.

“Alright.” He said slowly. Whiteshade turned and headed to Blizzardstar’s den.

Frayclaw took his chance. 

Mustering all the strength he had he sprang into a run. He heard a few grunts of surprise from the cats left in the clearing but no one had time to call out to him before he was through the tunnel and out into the snow-covered forest.

Frayclaw opened his mouth and drew in a huge gulp of the frigid air. Doing so caused him to fall into a violent coughing fit. When he emerged, eyes watering, he had the scent he was looking for.

Frayclaw followed the paw prints of the two apprentices for a short time until he came across the toms sniffing among the roots of an oak tree.

“Hey!” Frayclaw called out. His voice strained against the cold and his own tight throat. An uncomfortable heat was spreading through his head despite the freezing air.

Hawkpaw looked up. His eyes grew round. The tabby muttered something to his brother as Frayclaw drew nearer. Heronpaw faced his Clanmate with the same stony look he had given Whiteshade.

“What?” Heronpaw said.

Frayclaw wasted no time. “Tell me.” Few words were best. They knew what he meant. Besides he wasn’t sure how many more words he could say. His lungs could hardly fill his chest with breath.

Heronpaw’s hard gaze softened.

“He told us not to.” He said.

“I don’t care.” Frayclaw rasped.

“He’s coming back.” Hawkpaw put in. Heronpaw shot him a look. Hawkpaw stood his ground. “If we don’t tell him _something_ he’ll go off on his own.”

Frayclaw twitched an ear. Hawkpaw had more sense than he had given the apprentice credit for.

“If he does he has feathers for brains.” Heronpaw snorted. He rolled his eyes.

Frayclaw closed the distance between them in two strides. His heaving breath prevented him from retorting but the wide eyed look Heronpaw gave him let Frayclaw know his message had been received.

“You’ll kill yourself.” Heronpaw said. He took a step back. His front was fading. That was good. Make him decide. Breaking his promise to Dawnheart was less egregious than letting Frayclaw set out alone.

Heronpaw seemed to struggle with the decision before finally sighing and narrowing his eyes.

“What do you want to know?”

Frayclaw let out a ragged breath.

“Everything.”

. . .

“Ready…now!”

Dawnheart took off as if an entire pack of dogs were on his heels. His heart tumbled against his ribs as his paws hit hard, gritty stone.

_One. Two. Three._

In just three strides he was safely across the Thunderpath and diving into the long grass on the other side. He faintly acknowledged the thumping and swishing sounds of other cats arriving around him.

Dawnheart closed his eyes and took a breath of acrid Thunderpath air. His heartbeat slowed. Sufficiently calm now, Dawnheart dropped his bundle and turned to check on his companions.

“Is everyone alright?”

He clipped off the end of his sentence as he bit back a snort of amusement.

Kibby was a total mess. Her bushed out fur made her look twice her size. Her wide eyes were wild with fear and she was gripping the grassy ground with all twenty extended claws. If not for the bundle of catmint blocking her jaws, Dawnheart was sure she would be screaming.

The grass parted and Oliver stepped out from behind his denmate. His orange fur was rumpled but otherwise he seemed unfazed. He set down his own bundle of catmint and began to lick Kibby’s shoulder.

“You’re safe.” The old tom purred.

“Feh!” An annoyed snap of a yowl announced the arrival of Fitzy. He pushed his way through the dirty gray snow to join the rest. His broken tail lashed. “Safe. Yeah right.”

Dawnheart’s ear twitched as he caught the faraway rumbling of an approaching monster.

“Let’s come away from the path.” He said with a wave of his tail.

Oliver coaxed the shaking ball of fluff that was Kibby to take a few steps. Dawnheart paused to make sure everycat had their catmint before turning and setting off towards the trees.

They traveled in silence, only stopping when a monster roared by. Dawnheart knew by now that monsters rarely left their path, but something about standing still made him feel safer when they were near.

The odd patrol made their way along the Thunderpath. Behind them the sun was beginning to set. It had taken nearly the whole day to find and retrieve more catmint. The plant at Jasmine’s house had been destroyed during the commotion of the previous day. Luckily there was another source of the life-saving herb.

 _“It’s like a Twoleg nest, but full of plants.”_ Oliver had said.

 _“The plants survive every season?”_ Dawnheart asked in amazement.

_“Somehow the Twolegs keep it warm.”_

It had been a risk but well worth it. They had spent the day recruiting Fitzy to their cause and scheming. It had been easy enough to fool the Twoleg that lived near the special warm nest into opening the ‘door’, as Oliver had called it. It had been harder to get back out again.

A few broken containers and a smashed window later and the cats had found themselves racing away with their prize safely tucked between their jaws.

Dawnheart shook his head as he ducked under a low hanging bush. Who would believe that the silliness of Twolegs would be the thing that saved CedarClan? StarClan had known it. Dawnheart glanced upwards at the darkening sky. He bid his thanks to the unseen stars.

As they approached Clan territory Dawnheart began to slow his pace. He looked over his shoulder to see his companions keeping easy pace.

Oliver was gazing around at the trees and snow like he had never seen them before. Kibby had returned to normal size and was bouncing happily through the drifts. Fitzy’s tail and head were low as he scanned the area with narrowed eyes.

Dawnheart suppressed a purr and slowed to a stop. The others followed suit.

“Are we here?” Kibby squeaked around her catmint.

Dawnheart shook his head. He put down his bundle.

“Nearly.” He said. Kibby’s whole body wriggled with suppressed excitement.

“Stay close to me from now on. If you hear or scent any cats let me know.” Dawnheart instructed. He picked up his catmint and set out again.

The others drew close enough to him that he could feel the rustling of their fur in the air. He heard Kibby’s steps soften as they entered thicker forest. The swish of Fitzy’s lashing tail faded. Oliver was as silent as a warrior.

Dawnheart felt a tension he didn’t realize had been with him fade away as familiar green needles stretched out above his head. His shoulders relaxed and a spark of joy made his pawsteps lighter. He was almost home.

A scent hit his nose. He stopped dead.

“Stop!” Dawnheart hissed. The others came to a clumsy standstill behind him.

Dawnheart sunk into a crouch and signaled with his tail for the others to do the same. To his relief they obeyed in relative silence. Kibby couldn’t quite stop herself from drawing in a sharp breath, but Dawnheart wasn’t concerned. They had surely already been spotted.

Dawnheart drew the cold air over his tongue. He knew this scent. He remembered grooming it out of his fur for days after he had spilled their blood. The rogues were back.

Dawnheart’s mind raced. How many individual scents were there? Two? Three? Could he take three rogues alone? Could he keep his companions safe? Kibby and Oliver showed no signs of any fighting skill. Fitzy had been in squabbles but none of the kittypets had faced this level of savagery before. 

“Dawnheart?” Kibby’s small voice sounded as loud as a yowl to Dawnheart’s straining ears. He turned to silence her with a look. A flash of movement caught his eye.

Before he could react Dawnheart was bowled over by a tremendous force. His breath was driven from his lungs as massive clawed paws slammed him into the snow.

A terrified shriek cracked the frozen air.

Chaos followed.

Without thinking Dawnheart went limp. His assailant let out a satisfied grunt and shifted his weight. With a massive heave Dawnheart rammed his head into the rogue’s exposed underbelly. The rogue’s yowl of pain became a squeak as he tumbled backward off of his prey.

Dawnheart leapt to his paws and delivered three savage blows to the rogue’s exposed flank. Blood spattered the snow and the mangy tom howled in pain. With a whimper the rogue got to his paws and fled.

Dawnheart felt a rush of satisfaction. They had _not_ expected him.

A piteous yowl brought Dawnheart back to the fight. He whirled around sending sprays of snow in either direction.

Three more rogues were attacking the others. Fitzy was holding his own against a black and white she-cat but Oliver was trying to shield himself as two tabby toms rained blows down on the kitty-pet’s head. A bead of scarlet flew through the air as one of the tabby’s strikes drew blood.

Dawnheart’s vision reddened.

In a heartbeat he was in the air with claws extended. Before the next heartbeat had passed Dawnheart was crashing into the two rogues. He gripped the closest one’s head in his front claws and brought the tom down into a headfirst roll.

Dawnheart jumped out of the roll and was already attacking again before his opponent had had any time to recover from the sudden upset. The tabby raised feeble paws in an attempt to defend himself from Dawnheart’s assault.

Dawnheart was relentless. The rogue struggled to find his balance but Dawnheart wouldn’t let him. With a furious hiss the rogue spun and fled, unable to do anything else.

Dawnheart caught his breath. There had been two tabby rogues. Where was the other?

He caught sight of a flailing ginger tail at the edge of his vision. As he turned to come to Oliver’s aid another weight crashed into his side. He let his legs fold underneath him as his attacker’s heft carried it over Dawnheart’s back. The rogue landed in a tangle of limbs and tail at the base of a tree. It was the black and white she-cat.

A thought for Fitzy’s fate crossed Dawnheart’s mind before the she-cat recovered herself and sprang. Dawnheart moved to dodge but his paw slipped on the snow. Her claws raked the side of his face.

Pain crackled across his cheek like lightning. The force of the blow caused Dawnheart to almost lose his footing. Almost.

He was ready for the she-cat as she came again. Her brown eyes were wild with the light of battle and her yellow fangs were tinged with blood. Dawnheart blocked her incoming swipe with a foreleg. In a fluid motion he shifted his weight onto his back legs. With his free front paw he made a jab at the she-cat’s weight-bearing foreleg. She jumped back just in time to dodge it.

Dawnheart fell back on all four paws. This cat was different than the usual rogue rabble. She was fast and strong and understood that keeping one’s balance meant victory. Their eyes met.

“Weren’t expecting a Clan cat were you?” Dawnheart taunted. The she-cat’s eyes grew wide with a feral fury.

“I’ll rip your throat out, Clan-scat.” She hissed.

“You’ll have to get through us!”

Both Dawnheart and the she-cat looked around in surprise. Fitzy and Oliver were both standing nearby. Their claws were out and blood spattered their pelts, but both were on their feet. Dawnheart felt a rush of relief that was almost immediately snuffed out by an anxious pang. Where was Kibby?

The rogue curled her lip at Fitzy. Her ears laid flat to her head and her tail dropped to the snow-covered forest floor. Her eyes darted from Dawnheart to the advancing kitty-pets. With a final hiss of frustration the she-cat turned and fled.

Dawnheart’s blood began to slow; the adrenaline of battle quickly being replaced by icy waves of fear.

“Where’s Kibby?” He shot at the others.

Oliver’s eyes widened. Fitzy clenched his jaw.

“I lost sight of her!” Oliver wailed. He spun on his paws and limped away. Dawnheart and Fitzy followed.

The battle had spread out enough that a decently large patch of ground was churned up. Blood and dirt stained the gritty snow.

Dawnheart scanned the ground for a familiar swath of creamy fur. His heart twisted as his eyes fell on a grubby lump of fur lying half-obscured under a bush. A jolt of adrenaline brought Dawnheart’s paws to her side. Her face was hidden by a clump of kicked up snow. With a shaking paw, Dawnheart cleared the snow away.

Kibby’s eyes were squeezed shut.

One blue eye peeked open a sliver and darted back and forth. She twitched her ears.

“Did we win?” she mewled.

Dawnheart slumped to his haunches in the snow.

“You’re okay!” Oliver cried out from behind Dawnheart. The older tom hobbled over to Kibby’s side and began examining her. “Are you hurt?”

“No.” Kibby said. She hadn’t moved yet. She was splayed out on the ground with all four legs sticking out.

A loud ‘tch’ noise announced Fitzy’s arrival. Dawnheart saw the tom roll his eyes and stalk away from Kibby, muttering all the while.

“You didn’t fight?” Oliver flattened one ear.

“Someone had to protect the catmint.” Kibby huffed.

Dawnheart blinked. The catmint. He had dropped his at the beginning of the fight. Neither Oliver nor Fitzy had theirs either. Dawnheart scanned the clearing for scraps of green among the white, red, and brown. There was none.

Dawnheart looked down at Kibby. Her belly was pressed to the ground and she was gripping the soil for dear life.

“Kibby, you beauty!” Dawnheart burst out with a purr.

Oliver shook his head. “I don’t understand.”

Dawnheart nosed Kibby to her feet. She resisted at first but began to relax as it was made clear the danger was past.

Under her belly fur were four bunches of green catmint, unblemished and unscathed. Kibby had saved them from the chaos of battle.

Oliver’s yellow eyes widened as the catmint’s hiding place was revealed. A purr rumbled in his chest.

“I knew that belly would come in use one day.” He said.

Kibby flicked him with her tail.

Dawnheart leaned in and rubbed his jaw along Kibby’s. A startled purr rose in her throat. He pulled back and looked into her odd eyes.

“Thank you.” He said.

Kibby blinked softly at him.

“Anytime. Let’s go save your Clan.”


	29. Fault

The sun had long since hid its face behind the horizon by the time Dawnheart and the others reached the top of the slope leading to the fern tunnel. It had been slow going. Oliver was limping heavily and needed to rest his injured shoulder from time to time. Kibby was exhausted and could hardly keep putting one paw in front of the other. Fitzy was quiet but Dawnheart could tell the proud tom was in pain.

Dawnheart himself was feeling the weight of the day’s events on his back but an urgency drove him forward. What if the rogues had attacked the camp? What if he was too late with the catmint? Each paw-step radiated adrenaline up his legs as he drew closer. Within a few tail-lengths his paws were skimming the ground. Almost there.

Dawnheart pushed his way through a final thicket of dead ferns. On the other side was a welcome sight. Crowfrost was sitting at the camp entrance. The warrior sat straight-backed in moonlight and beyond him the camp lay quiet.

Crowfrost’s hackles rose as Dawnheart came into his view. Dawnheart paused. A moment later Crowfrost’s eyes widened with recognition and his fur lay flat.

“You’re back.” The new warrior said. 

The indifference in his voice took Dawnheart by surprise. He stopped.

“Dawnheart, wait!” A voice pierced the silence.

Crowfrost’s ears shot up and he jumped to his feet, tail lashing.

“Who was that?” He demanded. 

Before Dawnheart could respond Kibby burst through the bushes behind him. She stumbled on a root and rolled, limbs flailing, to a stop at Dawnheart’s side.

Dawnheart looked down at her and blinked. He had not thought about what he was going to say to the Clan about these visitors.

 _Well, too late for any discretion._ Dawnheart thought with an inward sigh. He dropped the catmint at his paws and opened his mouth to address his Clanmate.

“I found catmint.” He began.

Crowfrost was still staring at Kibby. His lip was drawn back in a half snarl, but his eyes were wide with confusion. He only reacted to Dawnheart’s statement with a slight twitch of an ear.

“I needed help bringing it all back.” Dawnheart continued.

The sound of Oliver and Fitzy’s arrival ran over the end of Dawnheart’s sentence. Both toms stood just behind their warrior companion.

Dawnheart could feel their anxious energy tingle his fur.

He turned to them. “Sorry I went ahead.” He said.

Fitzy nodded his understanding. Oliver didn’t respond. He limped forward two paw-steps and leaned heavily on the trunk of a tree. He closed his eyes.

Crowfrost found his voice.

“You brought _kitty-pets_ to camp?” he growled. His initial surprise had been replaced with hostility. His neck fur rose as his blue eyes darted between each newcomer.

“We were attacked by rogues. They need rest.” Dawnheart explained.

Crowfrost’s gaze lingered on the wound on Dawnheart’s cheek. He didn’t say anything.

Dawnheart swallowed his rising emotions. An outburst would not help here. Crowfrost was just being cautious. Perhaps the Clan knew of the rogues return and new faces were under scrutiny. Dawnheart took a calming breath and eased forward on his aching paws.

“Crowfrost you know the Clan needs this.” Dawnheart gestured to his catmint. “These cats helped me get it. The least they deserve is a place to rest and heal their wounds.”

Crowfrost’s snarl faded. He still looked at the kitty-pets with narrowed eyes, but his fur had flattened.

Dawnheart exhaled. He turned to his companions.

“Come on.” He said.

Kibby and Fitzy gripped their bundles of catmint a little tighter and nodded. Dawnheart coaxed Oliver off of the tree and gave him his own shoulder to lean on. Together they limped towards the tunnel.

As they drew within a tail-length of Crowfrost Dawnheart shot his Clanmate an expectant glance. Crowfrost hesitated for a half-breath. For that moment Dawnheart thought the warrior was going to block their way. Instead he stepped aside.

Dawnheart nodded to Crowfrost as they passed, but the warrior’s eyes were fixed on the forest beyond.

 _At least he’s taking his duties seriously._ Dawnheart thought.

He blinked away a new tiredness as his paws carried him through the fern tunnel. The scent of CedarClan wreathed around him, welcoming him. His warm nest was waiting for him in the warrior’s den. He had but one last task.

The sight that greeted Dawnheart made him stop dead.

A small group of cats were huddled together in the center of the clearing. Their heads were bowed. A low moan of grief was carried to Dawnheart’s ears on a chill night breeze.

_No._

Dawnheart couldn’t breathe. He was too late. How could StarClan let this happen? Why had they let him waste time searching? Why hadn’t he forced his companions to run the whole way here? Why…?

“Dawnheart?”

A familiar mew brought Dawnheart back to reality.

Kibby was crouching at his side. She looked up at him with wide, scared eyes.

“Did…did someone die?” she squeaked.

Dawnheart’s mouth went dry.

“Were we too late?” Kibby turned her gaze back to the mourning cats. Her ears were flat to her head and her voice trembled. “I’m sorry I didn’t go fast enough I haven’t ever gone so far away before.”

The words came out as a tiny mewl. She shrank back from the scene as if she wanted to run but couldn’t.

“I’m sorry I didn’t fight it’s just that Fitzy told me not to pick fights because I’d just get hurt and-“

Dawnheart rested his tail on her shaking back. Her head shot up to face him.

“It wasn’t your fault.” _It’s mine. Again._

Dawnheart reassured his sister with a few strokes of his tail along her spine. The warmth and calm of his mew surprised him. Inside he felt like screeching and wailing to the stars.

The impossible weight of guilt dropped into his belly. He felt as if he wasn’t here in CedarClan, but far, far away. Alone.

A chorus of new voices broke through Dawnheart’s moment of distance and solitude.

“Dawnheart is that you?”

“Who is that?”

“Is that catmint?”

Dawnheart blinked and took in the sight of his Clanmates reacting to his arrival.

Heronpaw and Hawkpaw were hurrying up to him. Looks of relief filled their faces. Whiteshade was standing at the entrance to the warrior’s den. For once he looked completely dumbfounded. Swiftwing jumped to his paws and stared, mouth agape. Others were starting to notice too. The vigil remained undisturbed.

Dawnheart didn’t know what to do next. Should he call for Plumleaf? Announce his return? He was relieved the burden of choice by Whiteshade ordering Hawkpaw to fetch Blizzardstar and hurrying up to Dawnheart’s group.

The deputy slowed to a halt and leaned forward to sniff at Dawnheart’s bundle. His amber eyes grew wide.

“You found some.” He said in awe.

Dawnheart could only nod.

Whiteshade’s eyes fell on the rest of the group. He didn’t adopt suspicion or hostility as Crowfrost had. Instead the deputy gave his head a little shake and blinked.

“Kitty-pets.” The warrior’s tone wasn’t accusatory but incredulous. “StarClan only knows.” Whiteshade shook his head once more and straightened up.

Dawnheart dropped his catmint bundle at his paws. He fixed Whiteshade with a pleading stare and gave a tiny nod towards the grieving cats.

“Whiteshade, who…?” His voice trailed off. He could not bring himself to finish the thought aloud.

_Who was I too late to save?_

Whiteshade heaved a sigh. The strong warrior’s pelt was disheveled and his eyes were dull. “One of Quailstep’s kits.” He said in a low voice.

Dawnheart clamped his jaws shut against a wave of nausea. He felt as if his paws were going to give out any moment. He looked on with wide eyes at the gathered cats. He recognized Quailstep and Talonscore now. They looked small in the cold starlight.

The cat on Quailstep’s other side looked up and caught Dawnheart’s eye. It was Plumleaf.

The medicine cat murmured something in her litter-mate’s ear before standing up and making her way over to them. Her steps quickened when she laid eyes on what they had brought.

“They can rest in the elder’s den.” Plumleaf announced when she’d reached them. She gestured to the house-cats with her plumy tail.

Without another word the fluffy medicine cat snatched Dawnheart’s bundle off of the ground and retreated. He watched as Plumleaf began distributing the herb to the gathered mourners.

At first Quailstep refused the medicine.

It took coaxing from both her mate and Plumleaf before the grieving she-cat accepted the dose. She then rested her chin on her paws and squeezed her eyes shut.

Dawnheart had to tear his eyes away from the scene. He couldn’t give this feeling his attention yet. He wasn’t done.

He nodded to Whiteshade before leading Oliver across camp to the elder’s den. Kibby and Fitzy followed closely behind.

When Oliver was settled into an empty nest Dawnheart peered out into the clearing and saw Blizzardstar emerging from his den.

“I’ll be right back.” Dawnheart told Kibby. “I need to speak to my leader.”

Kibby gave him a solemn nod and went back to grooming Oliver’s ears. Fitzy just grunted from the shadows.

Dawnheart hurried out of the den and up to where Blizzardstar was speaking to Whiteshade. Hawkpaw and Heronpaw hovered nearby.

“Ah, Dawnheart.” Blizzardstar remarked as Dawnheart drew near. His voice still rasped due to the healing gash in his neck. The huge white tom turned and faced his warrior. Dawnheart dipped his head. He suddenly felt very vulnerable in Blizzardstar’s presence.

“Let us speak elsewhere. I do not wish to disturb Lynxkit’s vigil.” With that Blizzardstar turned and strode towards the entrance to his den. The others followed without a word.

“I would like to extend my apologies.” Blizzardstar began. He sat down just inside his den and wrapped his long tail around his paws. The apprentices sat as well but Dawnheart remained standing.

“Apologies?” Dawnheart echoed.

Blizzardstar blinked and nodded.

“I had let my fears blind me to the possibilities of StarClan’s plan. You three and Petalpaw did something for the Clan I could not. For that I thank you.” The great cat bowed his head.

Dawnheart felt sick. He sank back onto his haunches.

“I’m sorry we had to lie.” Heronpaw said.

Hawkpaw nodded.

“It is one of the truths I have learned as leader that doing what is right can often be difficult.” Blizzardstar began saying something else but Dawnheart had stopped listening.

He was being praised? For what? Failing to return in time to save an ailing kit? How could Blizzardstar be apologizing to _him_ when he had been responsible for so much? If only Blizzardstar knew how much Dawnheart had hesitated, how much he had failed.

If only they knew that Dawnheart had considered not coming back at all.

“I was too late.”

The words were out of Dawnheart’s mouth before he could stop them. Blizzardstar paused mid-sentence and looked at him. With a flick of his long white tail the leader dismissed the two apprentices. They hesitated, looking at Dawnheart and trying to meet his gaze. Dawnheart didn’t reciprocate. He just stared at his paws and didn’t look up.

The sound of Heronpaw and Hawkpaw’s retreat faded away. Blizzardstar stayed silent. The air of the leader’s den pressed close on Dawnheart’s ears and lungs. It made him feel like he was going to suffocate.

Dawnheart wanted to stop himself but the dam was about to burst.

”It’s my fault Lynxkit is out there in the cold instead of at his mother’s belly.” His voice shook as the words tumbled from his mouth like water. “It’s _all_ my fault.”

Dawnheart squeezed his eyes shut and gripped the frozen earth with his claws. He bowed his head until his quivering whiskers brushed the snow.

“Do you know why I welcomed you to CedarClan?”

Dawnheart blinked open his eyes in shock. He lifted his head, hesitant.

Blizzardstar was staring past Dawnheart’s shoulder with tired blue eyes.

“My mother asked you to.” Dawnheart managed to say.

Blizzardstar closed his eyes for a moment and then reopened them.

“Yes and no.” He turned to face Dawnheart. “Your mother’s vision from StarClan caught my attention, yes, but what convinced me was your spirit.”

Dawnheart blinked up at his leader. The white tom’s eyes blazed with blue fire.

“You have a warrior’s spirit and a warrior’s heart. You are not weak.” Blizzardstar’s firm voice seemed to penetrate Dawnheart’s fear with its resounding timbre.

“You have saved many more lives than you feel responsible for losing. I have watched you sacrifice as much as any warrior, and more.” Blizzardstar’s intense gaze locked with Dawnheart’s.

“But most of all, you came back. Despite your grief, despite your loss, and despite how this world sees you, you came back to us. You came home.”

“I had to.” Dawnheart said. His voice cracked. “But I was too late.”

Blizzardstar rose to his paws and took a step forward.

Dawnheart flinched away as his leader drew close.

The white tom rested his strong jaw on Dawnheart’s head. Dawnheart blinked.

“Even the greatest of us cannot stop death.” The rumble of Blizzardstar’s voice resonated through Dawnheart’s body.

Dawnheart felt the pit of despair within him shake.

Blizzardstar stepped back.

“Go now. See what you have done for your Clan.” He waved his tail. Dawnheart was dismissed.

Numb, Dawnheart rose to his paws and backed out of the mouth of the den. His legs shook and his heart still ached. How could he ever be free of this guilt?

He turned, head down, ready to flee to the elder’s den.

A crowd of jostling cats blocked his path.

“You did it!” Specklepaw cried out from the front of the group. Her green eyes were shining as she looked at Dawnheart.

“You’ve saved them all.” Praised Runningriver from beside the apprentice.

Falconstorm nodded at Dawnheart. There was relief in the tabby warrior’s gray eyes.

Swiftwing padded up and touched noses with Dawnheart. “That catmint will keep my kits safe. Thank you.” The black and white tom said.

Dawnheart could only blink in shock. More cats were moving in towards him.

There were Elkheart and Whiteshade. Both warriors had their tails kinked high in gladness. They dipped their heads in unison towards Dawnheart. Even Slatefoot was standing near the back. He caught Dawnheart’s eye and gave a nearly imperceptible nod before turning and padding away.

Dawnheart could hardly manage to nod back before more cats approached him. He turned to look at them and froze.

The gathered cats had parted to allow two of their Clanmates through. It was Talonscore and Quailstep. Lynxkit’s father and mother.

Dawnheart couldn’t help but shy away. His ears flattened and he curled his tail close to his body. Shame made his eyes drop to the gritty snow at his paws. He waited.

“Thank you.” Quailstep’s soft voice took Dawnheart by surprise.

He looked up and met her eyes. There was deep sorrow in their soft brown depths, but something else was there too; a joy that shone through the pain like rays of dappled sunlight.

Dawnheart found himself unable to look away from the queen’s face. He wanted to prostrate himself before her and beg for her forgiveness, but he couldn’t make himself move.

“My kits will live because of you.” Quailstep said. Her eyes shone brighter as she looked into his face. The queen stepped forward and touched her soft muzzle to Dawnheart’s nose.

Realization crept into Dawnheart’s mind. She didn’t blame him. He found Talonscore’s gaze. There was no accusation there either. Dawnheart looked down into Quailstep’s face.

“I’m so sorry.” He whispered.

Quailstep closed her eyes.

“I know.” She said.

Dawnheart rested his head on hers.

This pain would fade. He could see that now. He just had to lean on his Clan.

. . .

Dawnheart ducked into the elder’s den a little while later. His heart was heavy, but not with grief. He had sat with Quailstep and Talonscore and grieved with them. He had helped Plumleaf distribute doses of catmint to the less ill cats nesting in the warrior’s den. Frayclaw had been there, fast asleep. Dawnheart hadn’t woken him. There would be time later. For now, Dawnheart wanted to rest. A peace had settled over his heart.

The Clan would survive this. He had done what he set out to do.

Kibby looked up from her nest beside Oliver. The orange tabby’s flank was slowly rising and falling in the rhythm of sleep. His injured leg was wrapped in cobweb and smelled strongly of herbs.

Dawnheart the two mice he was carrying at the edge of Kibby’s nest.

Her eyes grew round at the sight of the fresh-kill.

“Blizzardstar has agreed to let you stay until Oliver can travel.” Dawnheart said. He gestured to the mice. “I hope mice are okay.”

Fitzy’s amber eyes glowed in the gloom of the den.

“You think we’ve never had mouse before?” he sniffed. A purr rose in his throat. “We aren’t that coddled.” He got up and snatched the smaller of the two mice. He returned to his nest and immediately began crunching on the little creature.

Kibby blinked gratefully at Dawnheart before pulling the remaining mouse towards her and taking a bite.

His companions taken care of, Dawnheart excused himself from the den and padded out into the clearing.

The excitement had died down. Most every cat was in their nests again, save for Lynxkit’s vigil. The cold night air did nothing to quell the warmth that had spread through Dawnheart’s body.

He took a deep breath. Tomorrow the sun would rise on a stronger CedarClan. Each sunrise after that would bring more health and strength to the Clan. Leaf-bare didn’t seem so daunting now.

Dawnheart raised his muzzle to the distant stars and sent a quick prayer of thanks to StarClan. He hoped that Sootcloud, Lilypool, Spottedfur, and Blackmoth were listening.

The threat of greencough was waning and the Clan was nearly whole again. All was well.

. . .

Slatefoot watched as Dawnheart stretched his long limbs and made his way to his temporary nest inside the apprentice’s den. The kitty-pet looked satisfied with himself.

Slatefoot shoved down a growl that was threatening to escape his throat. He dug his long claws into the frozen ground at the foot of the sprawling Root-tree. How long was every cat going to pretend this was normal? A whole patrol of kitty-pets barging into camp and demanding food and shelter should have made the warriors furious. They should have chased them away.

Yet the entire Clan had celebrated. They had welcomed the kitty-pets into their midst. Given them their prey. _Thanked_ them.

The taste of bile had become familiar to Slatefoot now. He swallowed a mouthful, unblinking.

 _Cherrynose will recover because of them_. A small voice spoke to Slatefoot inside his head. _She’ll live to nest beside you again._

Slatefoot clenched his jaw.

Cherrynose was strong. She didn’t need the kitty-pet’s help.

_You know that isn’t true._

Slatefoot growled and shook his head. These thoughts had been invading his mind more frequently now. Ever since that other voice had revealed itself.

Slatefoot paused. No, that wasn’t it. He had always felt this way. Warriors rejected the soft life of a kitty-pet. Dawnheart was a kitty-pet. His existence in the Clan broke the warrior code.

And yet Slatefoot had found himself nodding to that kitty-pet in respect. He had never imagined that Dawnheart could risk so much for a Clan that he didn’t belong to. He had come back with a cure for an ailment even Plumleaf could not fix. Heronpaw had told them that Dawnheart had been chosen by StarClan in Petalpaw’s prophecy.

No. No kitty-pet could be called by StarClan.

Slatefoot shook his head violently. He tried to dispel these thoughts with force. They clung like a fly stuck in a spider’s web.

Anger boiled up inside of Slatefoot. A raging, burning, feverish rancor.

He drew his lips back to reveal his fangs to the night. His old scar stung in the night air.

The Warrior Code must be preserved. The rot must be cut out.

This was his calling.

This was his task.


	30. Confrontation

The next two days brought relief and joy for the cats of CedarClan. If felt to Heronpaw that his Clan was coming back to life. Each morning more cats were returning to their dens. The warrior’s den was once again housing healthy, happy warriors.

By sunset on the second day half of the cats who had been ill were cleared for everyday duties and those who still nested in Plumleaf’s care were becoming stronger all the while. Ferntail was still among the sick but Plumleaf had assured him that she was young and strong. She would recover soon.

Heronpaw entered the camp with two mice hanging from his jaws. Hawkpaw and Swiftwing followed. Both cats had prey.

With a sigh of satisfaction Heronpaw dropped his offering on the fresh-kill pile and flopped to the cold ground. Recovering cats had big appetites. He and Hawkpaw had been hunting almost nonstop since sunrise.

“Well done today.” Swiftwing praised the apprentices.

Hawkpaw bowed his head to his mentor. “Am I dismissed?”

Swiftwing flicked his tail.

Hawkpaw snatched up the squirrel he had caught and made a beeline for the apprentice’s den. Morningpaw, now mostly recovered, was lying half in and out of the entrance. She greeted Hawkpaw with a tender touch of the muzzle. Together the apprentices settled down to eat. Their pelts brushed.

Heronpaw watched his brother from across the clearing. A memory of sitting side by side with Petalpaw on the slopes above Clan territory drifted into his mind. He remembered her scent and the warmth of her pelt.

“It’s amazing how a cat will change for love.”

Swiftwing’s wistful mew wrenched Heronpaw out of his reminiscing.

Heronpaw looked up at the warrior. Swiftwing was watching his apprentice with pride in his eyes. The black and white warrior gave a shake of his head. “Thank StarClan.” He added in a mutter. A purr rumbled in his throat.

He bade Heronpaw farewell and padded away to the nursery to be with his own mate and kits.

Heronpaw cast another glance at his brother and Morningpaw. Swiftwing was right. Gone was the irresponsible and unfocused Hawkpaw. He even looked older now, with his wide shoulders and full frame. Heronpaw briefly wondered if he looked like that too.

He grabbed one of his mice and scanned the clearing. He would give Hawkpaw and Morningpaw their privacy. Surely there was someone else he could share a meal with.

He turned and spotted Kestrelfeather grooming Runningriver under the Root-tree. Ferntail was still recovering in the medicine den. Crowfrost was nowhere to be seen.

A pebble of melancholy wedged itself in Heronpaw’s heart. If only Petalpaw were here. He could tell her all about how he had snatched his mouse from the depths of an abandoned rabbit warren. He had been quite proud of that catch. She would purr and congratulate him on becoming a rabbit himself. He could almost hear her soft, teasing tone.

He flicked his ears, resigned to his solitude. A voice called out.

“Heronpaw!”

Dawnheart was waving to him from the elder’s den across the way. The warrior was sitting among his kitty-pet friends and the elders. He waved his long tail in Heronpaw’s direction. “Come eat with us!”

Heronpaw’s gloom melted away as he waved back. He trotted over and was greeted by pleased purrs and amiable faces. He had been foolish to think he was alone.

He had such a pleasant time with Dawnheart and the kitty-pets that it didn’t occur to him that even if Crowfrost had been there they would not have eaten together as they once had. He didn’t even feel an ache in his heart for the broken brotherhood they now shared.

. . .

Crowfrost paced. Crowfrost waited. Crowfrost fumed. His terrible dreams from the past quarter-moon played over and over in his head. Petalpaw injured. Petalpaw calling for help. Petalpaw dead.

He shook his head so hard it hurt.

“You’re going to give yourself squirrel-brain if you keep that up.” A voice drawled from nowhere.

Crowfrost whirled around. The forest of whiteness was gone. Green, lush undergrowth that shone softly in the moonlight had replaced the snow. The freezing air pinching his nose was the only hint that something was off.

_Finally._ He thought.

Two fern fronds parted, and she arrived. Crowfrost rocked backwards onto his haunches and struck an attentive pose. He straightened his back and tried to be patient as she dusted off her dainty gray paws with her tail.

Her fussing went long. Crowfrost’s tolerance was short. He cleared his throat.

She paused grooming her tail and her eyes flicked up to meet his. They flashed a livid green, but only for a moment.

Crowfrost raised his head and stared straight ahead. “You have a message for me?”

She snorted. “No.”

Crowfrost couldn’t help but sag slightly. He blinked. “But you came- “

“You’ve been standing around waiting all day.” She interrupted with a wave of her tail. “It was getting irksome.”

Crowfrost bit back an angry retort. She had left him in the dark about so many things and now, at a time like this, she had nothing to say? He narrowed his eyes and fixed them on the mossy forest floor. The cognitive dissonance of seeing sun-warmed peat beneath his paws and yet feeling frigid snow reminded him of his life in the Clan lately.

He stayed silent, staring pointedly at the ground.

She sighed; her tone was one of long-suffering. “What do you want?”

Crowfrost dared to lift his eyes to her. She was examining her claws with a bored expression.

“You said…” he hesitated as she ever so slightly drew back her top lip in a tiny snarl. He backtracked. “I was hoping you would share with me when Petalpaw will return?”

“I told you that would happen after the catmint was found.”

Crowfrost swallowed a deep breath before venturing further. “It has been found.”

She slammed her forepaw to the forest floor. “Then she will return.” She hissed between gritted teeth.

Crowfrost shrank before her anger.

She closed her eyes and the raised fur on her shoulders lay flat. When she spoke again her tone was soft and languid again. Crowfrost let himself relax.

“I know that you are worried for her.” She said. She padded up to him and brushed her tail along his side. “Your dreams have been troubled of late.”

Crowfrost’s voice betrayed his surprise. “You can see my dreams?”

“Of course I can.” She snapped. In an instant her calm demeanor returned. “I promised you she would come home safely, did I not?”

Crowfrost raised his head to meet her gaze. As volatile as she was, she had shown herself to be trustworthy. He swallowed hard and nodded.

She sighed and drew her tail under his chin. She studied his face with her fierce eyes.

“Oh, Crowfrost.” She said in a voice as soft as down. “You will see your love soon.”

Crowfrost stiffened. “I don’t- “

“Lies breed mistrust.” She cut him off again. Her eyes fixed him with a gaze that struck deep. “Help me trust you.”

Crowfrost set his jaw. He thought of the beautiful medicine cat apprentice with her outward compassion and hidden fire. His belly clenched.

“I love her.”

The gray she-cat purred. “Good.”

Crowfrost bowed his head under the weight of his own guilt.

“Have no shame.” She chided. “Your love is a righteous one. While others seek to take her away from her destiny you desire nothing more than to see her fulfill her dreams.”

Crowfrost thought of Heronpaw and let out a low growl. It had been hard to accept the truth at first but now he knew that his brother was selfish and a danger to the Clan. 

“Do not blame Heronpaw.” The she-cat said in a softer voice. “His mind is not his own.”

Crowfrost winced and his snarl faded. It was so easy to let his anger cloud his mind and forget that Heronpaw was not of sound mind. Crowfrost felt a pang of guilt. The Heronpaw he knew would never seek to hurt the Clan he loved so much. His belly clenched for the littermate he seemed to have lost.

“You’ve admitted something deep and personal to me.” The StarClan cat continued in a more business-like tone.

Crowfrost looked up at her.

“That airs of trust. And trust-” she moved past his flank and brushed her tail under his chin as she went, “begets trust.” She continued to pad away from him. She motioned for him to follow with a flick of her tail.

Crowfrost turned and followed through the rich Greenleaf growth. As he brushed against a leafy branch he was again startled by the feeling of bare wood instead of soft leaves. He gathered himself and lengthened his stride to catch up to her.

They walked shoulder to shoulder for a time. Then she spoke again.

“Something is going to happen at the Gathering tomorrow, something that is part of StarClan’s plan for the forest.” Her green eyes glinted but she did not face him.

Crowfrost hid his reaction behind a calm face but he couldn’t stop the shiver of anticipation that skittered down his spine.

“The reaction of the Clans will be-“ she paused, “ _negative_.” The slow emphasis she put on the word piqued Crowfrost’s curiosity.

“But rest assured that all is in the right paws.” She slowed to a stop and sat down. She wrapped her thin tail around her paws and looked out over the lake.

Crowfrost blinked. They hadn’t been walking long enough to be here. He looked out over the vast expanse of glittering water. Stars like the luminous eyes of cats reflected off of the gently lapping waves. The way they moved in and out of view with the waves made them look like they were blinking at him. He shivered and looked away.

She was looking at him through half-lidded eyes. The tip of her tail twitched.

Crowfrost realized she was expecting him to say something.

“What am I to do?” he said quickly.

This seemed to abate her. Her tail curled once more around her paws and she looked off across the water.

“You will do nothing. You are there to see and hear only.” She turned her eyes on him again. They glinted with vivid green light. “There you will find your ally.”

Crowfrost almost outwardly reacted. He barely kept his excitement, curiosity, and rush of pride under control. He shuffled his paws and sat straighter.

“How will I know?” he strained to keep his voice from betraying his anticipation.

She gave him a sideways glance. “Keep your eyes open.” She said with a hint of mischief in her voice. “And be on the lookout for a familiar face.”

Crowfrost blinked, ready to ask for clarification. In the space of time it took to close his eyes and open them again the vision was gone. He found himself standing alone at the edge of the lake.

Instead of stars the lake’s surface reflected a gray pelt of clouds. At his paws ice crept between the colorful stones of the shore. A bone-chilling breeze cut through Crowfrost. The surface of the lake rippled.

Crowfrost straightened his back. Pride warmed him from nose to tail tip. He had gained enough trust that he was let in on part of StarClan’s plan! He wondered what his role would eventually be. Would he be tasked with an important mission outside of Clan territory? Would he be StarClan’s messenger?

His ears pricked up. A soft sound from behind him had broken the silence of night. He banished his thoughts of grandeur and tensed. He turned to watch the tree line.

After a moment another sound, a rustle, announced the arrival of a cat. Crowfrost let his body relax as he recognized CedarClan scent. When the newcomer emerged from the shadows, however, Crowfrost stiffened.

“Crowfrost? What are you doing here?”

It was Heronpaw.

. . .

Heronpaw watched Crowfrost’s blue eyes go from wide shock to narrow suspicion in less than a breath.

“I could ask the same of you.” Crowfrost answered coolly.

Heronpaw flinched at his brother’s icy tone. “I couldn’t sleep.”

Crowfrost didn’t react. He merely turned back to the lake and gazed across its length to the other side. To the AlderClan side.

“She’ll come home soon.” Heronpaw ventured. He steeled himself and took a few tentative steps down the bank until he was almost level with Crowfrost.

Crowfrost ignored Heronpaw’s advance. Heronpaw sat down with a nervous glance at his brother. He wrapped his tail around his paws neatly. He looked out at the water, unsure of what to say.

Heronpaw had found himself missing Crowfrost more and more each day. He would think of a clever quip and turn, ready to share it with his littermate, but the space beside him would be empty. That evening as he had been sharing prey with Dawnheart he had been reminded of the day of his accident when Crowfrost and Hawkpaw had almost splattered each other bloody with bird guts. The memory had brought a flood of emotions back to Heronpaw.

Now that the threat of greencough was waning and he was no longer fearing for his sanity, Heronpaw could really think about what else was going on in the Clan. Crowfrost’s cold behavior bothered him most. Maybe now that the catmint had been found Crowfrost would be willing to listen.

Crowfrost’s quiet voice broke into Heronpaw’s thoughts. “Did you really think you were acting for the best?”

Heronpaw turned to face his brother. Crowfrost kept his eyes fixed on the opposite shore.

“Yes.” Heronpaw said. He waited.

Crowfrost’s tight expression loosened slightly.

Heronpaw held his breath. Should he continue? Stay silent? Despair filled him as he realized he didn’t know how to reach his littermate anymore.

Before Heronpaw had reached a decision on how to proceed, Crowfrost’s face darkened again. Heronpaw’s heart fell.

“For who? The Clan? Petalpaw?” The black warrior fixed Heronpaw with a sideways stare from severe blue eyes. “Or _yourself?_ ” Crowfrost spat the last word at Heronpaw.

Heronpaw flattened his ears against the burning gust of malice sent his way. The words were nettles. They dug into Heronpaw and made him wince.

“The _Clan_.” Heronpaw insisted. He tried to keep nettles of his own from forming on his tongue. This was no time for petty feelings.

Crowfrost continued to glare. “If you cared about the Clan you wouldn’t have risked Petalpaw’s future.”

Heronpaw bit back a frustrated grunt. “She’s going to be okay. Plumleaf _wanted_ her to take the initiative. It was-“

He was cut off as Crowfrost rounded on him. Heronpaw scrambled backward across the icy stones as Crowfrost advanced on all four paws. His eyes were a leaf-bare storm; cold, dark, and dangerous.

“I’ve seen the way you look at her.” He snarled. “Like a hungry fox.”

Heronpaw was taken aback. He opened his mouth to defend himself but Crowfrost didn’t let him speak.

“I’ve given you one warning.” Crowfrost shoved his muzzle forward until it was a whisker length from Heronpaw’s face. “You’ll do well to heed it.”

Heronpaw remembered that terrible night when Crowfrost had turned angry. The coldness of mistrust that had entered his eyes then had not faded. For some reason Heronpaw couldn’t understand Crowfrost was convinced that Heronpaw was a threat to Petalpaw’s future.

The brothers stared at each other in silence. 

Heronpaw searched Crowfrost’s face for a hint of the cat he knew. Where was his passive wisdom? Where was the sparkle of mischief? All Heronpaw could see now was that terrible suspicion.

A horrible thought occurred to him.

 _Watch for dramatic changes in cats you know._ Was this what Snowbreeze had been talking about? Was Crowfrost becoming the next victim of the nameless madness that had caused so much death so long ago?

Heronpaw’s belly clenched. He would not let that happen.

“Crowfrost, this isn’t like you.” He said. He steeled himself against a harsh reaction.

Crowfrost’s eyes flashed with surprise for half a breath. Then they hardened again.

 _This isn’t you. I can still help._ Heronpaw thought desperately. He willed Crowfrost to hear his unspoken plea.

The black warrior drew his lips back in a subtle snarl. “You have no idea who I am.”

“I do!” Heronpaw asserted. “You’re my brother.”

Heronpaw thought he saw a sliver of pain behind the mask of malice that was his brother’s face. In an instant the emotion was gone.

Crowfrost tossed his head. “You’re no brother of mine.” His voice was soaked in venom. His eyes dropped to his paws and he shoved past Heronpaw. Their shoulders banged together painfully.

Heronpaw stumbled with the force of the blow. He turned to call after Crowfrost but his plea died in his throat. He watched, mute, as the warrior disappeared into the snowy, shadow-darkened forest.

Heronpaw sank back on his haunches, defeated. A flicker of movement caught his eye.

Snowbreeze sat beside him. She faced the lake and her eyes reflected nothing but the star-strewn surface of the water. She turned and met his gaze. The reflection did not change.

She opened her mouth and whispered in a frantic voice. “Something terrible is about to happen.”


	31. Calm

Heronpaw’s muscles ached. He ignored the discomfort. His whiskers longed to twitch. He held them still. His eyes burned with dryness. Still he stared, unblinking, at the blackbird perched on a skeletal limb of a dead tree.

The bird had alighted there what felt like moons ago. Heronpaw knew that it was tempted by the smattering of beech husks that lay beneath a bramble bush on the forest floor, but it hadn’t made a move for them. Yet.

The bird hopped about on its perch with a twitchy, nervous energy. Its head bobbed up and down and its glittering black eyes surveyed the ground. It clacked its beak once. Twice. It couldn’t resist much longer.

With a final clatter of its beak the blackbird gave in. It stretched its wings and glided to the ground. It hardly made a sound. The bird hopped on nervous feet over to the beech husks. It froze.

Heronpaw held his breath.

The bird made a move for the seed.

Heronpaw sprang.

His patience was rewarded as claws and teeth met warm flesh. The blackbird had no time to make as much as a squeak before Heronpaw snapped its neck with a fluid motion.

The wind skittered by on impatient paws. The beech husks rolled away, an empty promise the bird had paid the ultimate price for.

Heronpaw began to give a silent prayer of thanks for the bird’s life but paused halfway through. Thank you for this fresh-kill, who? Who did he trust now that StarClan seemed, well, untrustworthy if he was being honest with himself.

He settled on just ‘thank you’. It seemed appropriate.

He shifted his kill into a more manageable grip and began backtracking through the forest. Along his route he dug up a single scrawny mouse he had caught earlier. Its little body was stiff and cold now, having rested too long in the crystalline snow. Heronpaw felt a stab of disappointment. He would have liked to bring warm prey back to camp. At least he had the blackbird.

Heronpaw glanced skyward to determine the position of the sun. It was already far past sunhigh. He had spent most of the day finding this much. He hoped that the others had been more successful.

He climbed his way up a root-strewn slope and followed the path towards the training hollow. The gritty snow under his paws crunched and scraped against his pads. He grimaced.

As he trudged along the path he set free the looming anxiety that had been swirling just beyond his attention all day.

_Something terrible is about to happen._

That was all he had been able to get out of Snowbreeze before she disappeared. The terror in her eyes still haunted him. What could she see that he couldn’t? He had hardly slept that night, convinced that that terrible something was only a heartbeat away. All had been quiet. No sudden deaths in the night. No ambush from a rival Clan.

That meant that the worst was yet to come.

Heronpaw narrowed his eyes against the thought. His Clan had survived this early leaf-bare so far. They could handle whatever came next. He flexed his claws. He would make sure they would.

Dawnheart’s success and the recovery of almost every cat in the Clan had instilled Heronpaw with new confidence. He had done the right thing. He had made a difference. Gone was the fear that he would forever live in his father’s shadow. Gone was the uncertainty that stayed his paws from action.

Something bad was coming, but Heronpaw felt ready this time. The warm body of the blackbird in his jaws reaffirmed this in his mind.

A movement in the undergrowth on his right caught Heronpaw off guard for a breath. He was half-ready to spring when he saw a familiar auburn head push its way through the spider-like branches of a hazel thicket.

Kestrelfeather disentangled himself from the shrub with a practiced ease. A vole swung by its tail from his teeth. He set the creature down and motioned for Heronpaw to do the same. Heronpaw laid his catch at his paws.

There was an awkward silence. Kestrelfeather opened his mouth to speak but closed it before any words came out. Heronpaw shifted his back paws. This was the first time he had been alone with his mentor since before he had gone to the Moontree. He searched his thoughts for something to say, but nothing presented itself.

Heronpaw glanced up to meet Kestrelfeather’s gaze. The look held for just a moment before the warrior focused instead on Heronpaw’s blackbird.

“That was an impressive catch.” Kestrelfeather said. His voice was still strained by his fading illness but his breaths came deep and full.

“You saw?”

“I was passing by.”

“…Thanks.”

There was another silence. Heronpaw looked down at his blackbird. A memory drifted into his mind. His first solo catch as an apprentice. It had been a sparrow. Kestrelfeather had spent all day with Heronpaw as the young cat tried and failed to make a catch. The sun had almost set when Heronpaw had lost his third mouse, but Kestrelfeather hadn’t given up.

_You’re stuck with me._ He had said.

Heronpaw’s very next attempt had been successful.

Heronpaw blinked and looked up at his uncle.

“I did what you taught me.”

Kestrelfeather’s green eyes shone with emotion. “You did it _well._ ”

An understanding passed between mentor and apprentice. The tightness in the air faded. Heronpaw gathered up his catch and took his place beside his mentor as they headed back to camp.

. . .

Heronpaw dropped his catch on the fresh-kill pile. It was practically empty. Heronpaw’s heart was still light though. All around him his Clanmates were finishing their evening meal. Most cats had already been fed.

As Heronpaw bent to choose a morsel for himself something caught his eye from the other side of camp. He straightened up to see Ferntail emerging from the medicine den. Joy skipped in Heronpaw’s heart. He snatched up his blackbird and hurried over to her.

Her green eyes lit up when she caught sight of him.

Heronpaw motioned with his tail and Ferntail followed him to a sheltered spot at the edge of the fern wall. She sat and marveled at Heronpaw’s bird with wide eyes.

“Did you catch that?” she purred as Heronpaw settled down beside her.

“Yeah.” He replied. He gave the she-cat a once over with his eyes.

She was thin and her pelt hung loosely, but the bright light of health shone in her eyes. She nosed at the prey eagerly and began plucking feathers with careful teeth.

“How are you feeling?” Heronpaw asked. He too started pulling feathers.

“Much better.” Ferntail twitched her nose to dislodge some puffy down. She paused and turned her gaze to him. “Thanks to you and Dawnheart.”

Heronpaw straightened his back and sat a little taller. The pride faded, however, as he looked into his mother’s eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Heronpaw dropped his gaze to his paws. “For worrying you.”

Ferntail pressed her flank against Heronpaw’s.

“You did what you felt was right. That’s all I could ever ask for.” Ferntail’s purr rumbled through Heronpaw’s body. She craned her neck and licked Heronpaw’s ear. He glanced over to meet her eyes.

“I’m so proud of you.” Her voice creaked like Kestrelfeather’s.

Heronpaw felt warmth spread from her touch to fill his body. Her pride radiated from her like the sun’s rays on a warm Greenleaf day. How he had missed her. He nuzzled the top of her head.

They spent a while eating and talking. Ferntail wanted to know everything about his ‘adventure’. Heronpaw gladly dove into the story. He left out Snowbreeze. There was no need to worry Ferntail about that.

He paused when he got to the part about the Moontree.

Ferntail waited patiently for him to continue.

Heronpaw remembered Dovekit’s visit with stark detail. He could even recall how she smelled. Would it be right to remind Ferntail of her lost kit? Would she thank him or resent him? He recalled how he felt after he saw the little cat. He swallowed hard.

“I had a dream at the Moontree.” He began.

Ferntail’s eyes went wide but she didn’t interrupt.

Heronpaw forced himself to continue through the tightness in his chest. “Mother, Dovekit came to me.”

Ferntail stiffened.

Heronpaw chanced a glance at her.

Her eyes were still stretched wide. Her mouth had frozen half-open. Heronpaw pushed forward.

“She told me that she has been watching over us.” Heronpaw shuffled his paws. “She was so beautiful, Mother. Starlight shone in her eyes and in her fur. She had wisdom far beyond her time.” The words spilled from Heronpaw like a waterfall. He wanted to give as many details to his mother as possible.

“She smelled just like I remember, and she still had kit-fuzz around her ears, but she was as graceful as a full grown warrior.”

Ferntail slowly bowed her head until Heronpaw could no longer see her face. Her body shook slightly.

Heronpaw kept going.

“She gave me advice and encouragement. It reminded me so much of you. She even showed me a little bit of StarClan’s forest. It’s amazing there. It’s Greenleaf all the time. She never goes hungry or cold or…” He trailed off as Ferntail placed a paw on his side.

Heronpaw held his breath as she raised her head to look at him.

Her eyes were shining with soft gratitude. Her whiskers trembled as she searched his face. Heronpaw’s anxiety melted away and was replaced with the same melancholy he had felt at the roots of the Moontree.

Heronpaw continued his story as Ferntail rested against his side. She listened with alert ears but her eyes were closed. A look of contentment settled on her soft features.

The sun was almost set by the time Heronpaw had finished his tale. Mother and son took turns washing each other’s ears as another cold night set in. All around them their Clanmates braved the chill, staying out of their dens in favor of milling about the clearing.

Hawkpaw, having long since returned from his hunting, was sitting with Morningpaw at the mouth of the apprentice’s den, Swiftwing was grooming Honeyleaf by the nursery as their near full-grown kits played keep-the-moss-ball-away with Specklepaw, and Kestrelfeather, Runningriver, and Cloudspots were chatting by the side of the fresh-kill pile. Even the grumpy Slatefoot was lying contentedly with Cherrynose at the mouth of the warrior’s den.

Heronpaw briefly wondered why there were still so many cats out. Then he remembered what day it was.

“May all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather here beneath the Highbranch for a Clan meeting!” Blizzardstar’s call rang out through the night air. Almost at once the Clan began forming a crowd around the Highbranch. They had been waiting for this.

Heronpaw jumped to his paws. He made to hurry away when he paused. He glanced at Ferntail who gave him an amused nod. Heronpaw bid her goodbye and took off. He bounded over to where Hawkpaw and Morningpaw were taking their seats before the Highbranch. He settled beside them. They only had the time to nod a greeting before the meeting began.

“Cats of CedarClan.” Blizzardstar boomed out. The Clan fell silent. “Before I announce who will join me at the Gathering, we have a few things to take care of.”

A ripple of movement passed over the Clan. Heronpaw craned his neck along with others in the crowd, looking for some hint about what Blizzardstar was going to say.

“Tonight we say goodbye to our guests from Twolegplace.” Blizzardstar said. “We extend our gratitude to them for their efforts in bringing Dawnheart back to us.” The leader paused and dipped his head.

Heronpaw shifted on his haunches to get a better view of where Dawnheart was sitting with the kittypets near the front of the Clan. The Twolegplace cats looked uncomfortable but pleased as the warriors around them bowed their heads and murmured words of thanks.

Talonscore stood tall at the kittypets’ side. His yellow gaze swept over his Clanmates, silently daring any of them to disrespect the cats who had helped save his kits.

As Heronpaw was pleased to see, Talonscore needn’t worry. Genuine purrs rose from the Clan and the kittypets began to relax amidst the praise.

“May StarClan light your paths.” Blizzardstar called out over the muttering. “You will always be friends of CedarClan.”

Blizzardstar turned away from the kittypets and continued. “In happier news, Runningriver would like me to announce her retirement to the nursery.”

Heronpaw blinked in surprise and turned to share a wide-eyed look with Hawkpaw. He had known that Kestrelfeather and Runningriver had shared something special but he hadn’t expected this.

The Clan burst into purrs and meows of gladness. Heronpaw spotted Kestrelfeather and Runningriver on the other side of the crowd. Ferntail, Honeyleaf, and Cloudspots wasted no time in flocking around the silver warrior. Whiteshade gave Kestrelfeather a friendly shove while Swiftwing lifted his muzzle and gave a short, excitable yowl.

“We’re going to be uncles!” Hawkpaw burst out.

“Cousins.” Morningpaw corrected with a purr.

Heronpaw nudged his brother. “I’ll only be an uncle when you two have kits, Hawkpaw.”

Hawkpaw’s eyes rounded and his mouth dropped open. Morningpaw gave an indignant squeak.

“When we have –?” Hawkpaw stammered. He glanced at Morningpaw and seemed to lose the ability to speak at all. Morningpaw turned, wide-eyed, and watched as Runningriver was fawned over by her fellow she-cats. In a tiny movement that Heronpaw barely caught sight of the two apprentices moved close enough that their pelts brushed.

Heronpaw twitched his ears in satisfaction.

Blizzardstar closed out the meeting by announcing the cats chosen to go to the gathering. To Heronpaw’s excitement he, as well as his brothers, were among the group.

The Clan meeting broke up into a few groups of cats gathered around and chatting. Heronpaw padded over and wished the kittypets’ well. Kibby gave him an overenthusiastic nuzzle that almost knocked Heronpaw over. Oliver and Fitzy gave him polite nods.

Leaving the kittypets to their closer friends, Heronpaw hovered at the edge of Kestrelfeather’s crowd until he found his chance. He squeezed past Elkheart and Shadowgrove as they moved away and found himself face-to-face with Kestrelfeather.

“Congratulations.” Heronpaw said.

Kestrelfeather choked out a purr. “Thanks.” His green eyes were wide and his posture was slightly sunken.

Heronpaw cocked his head. “Do you want to be congratulated?” He asked carefully.

Kestrelfeather balked. “Of course!”

“He’s just a little nervous!” Swiftwing crowed. He gave Kestrelfeather’s shoulders a thump with a forepaw. “Being a good warrior has scat-all to do with being a good father.”

Kestrelfeather shoved the black and white warrior away with a friendly snarl. “I guess that’s why you’re such a good father, then!”

Heronpaw stifled a snort of mirth. He turned to let Kestrelfeather have time with other well-wishers. He was stopped by a call from Kestrelfeather.

“Come find me later, I have something to ask you.”

Heronpaw waved his tail to show that he had heard. He slipped between his clamoring Clanmates and padded away from the congregated cats. He paused and looked over his shoulder at his Clan.

They were all here, gathered together in happiness, thinking that the worst had passed them by. They had no idea about the warnings Heronpaw had received or the dark shadow hanging over them.

Heronpaw watched these cats that he loved and imagined what they would say if they knew what he knew. Would they be upset with him for not speaking up? Would they be afraid? Would they even believe him? These new worries set his belly churning anew. Snowbreeze had warned him that the darkness was already within the Clan. How could he know if the cat he confided in was who he needed them to be?

He knew that he couldn’t keep this secret forever. He was going to need some help. Someone to cover for him. An extra pair of eyes. A second witness.

Heronpaw thought hard as he watched Hawkpaw talking animatedly to Kestrelfeather and Swiftwing. He seemed to be reenacting a particularly acrobatic catch he had made earlier. His gray eyes remained bright and unabashed even as he failed the move in spectacular fashion.

Heronpaw purred. Not everything had changed about his brother.

Something clicked in Heronpaw’s brain.

Hawkpaw.

He was the perfect choice. There was no way that the tabby apprentice was being influenced by something evil. Everything about him radiated Hawkpaw-ness. He would keep Heronpaw’s secret if his brother asked him to, and he had no power within the Clan. His knowing wasn’t a threat.

Heronpaw turned away. Determination steadying his squirming belly.

He wasn’t going to be alone anymore.


	32. Storm

Hawkpaw slowed to a stop. Heronpaw turned to face his brother. The tabby apprentice was staring into the mid-distance. His gray eyes were screwed up in concentration, hiding a mind that was working furiously to make sense of what he had just heard.

Heronpaw glanced past his shoulder and watched as the trailing end of the gathering patrol disappeared over a rise. The full moon lit the forest in its pale light. It was almost like a dream.

Despite Hawkpaw’s silence, Heronpaw couldn’t help but feel an immense, all-consuming feeling of relief. The secrets he had been keeping for the past moon were finally freed into the winter air. They danced there like birds tasting the sky for the first time. Heronpaw’s heart soared among them.

He had told Hawkpaw everything. Hawkpaw had listened silently for the most part, only interrupting for the occasional question. The explanation had taken most of the trip to the lake. The rest of the Clan would be there by now, but Heronpaw was hesitant to rush his confidant.

Hawkpaw’s silence stretched out for several more heartbeats. Heronpaw’s relief fluttered away with the chilly night breeze. New anxiety alighted on the empty perch within him. What would Hawkpaw say? What if Heronpaw had been wrong to trust him?

Hawkpaw blinked a few times. Heronpaw held his breath as Hawkpaw’s gaze found his face.

“What do we do?”

Heronpaw’s legs wavered beneath him. “We wait. And we watch.”

Hawkpaw’s eyes were serious. He nodded.

Heronpaw gestured with his tail that they should keep moving. Together they set out in silence.

“This explains so much.” Hawkpaw said as they crested the last hill.

“Meaning?” Heronpaw ducked under a low hanging branch.

“Meaning you’ve been acting so strange lately.” Hawkpaw snorted. “You can’t pretend that you were subtle.”

Heronpaw grunted. “I’m not the only one who isn’t subtle.”

Hawkpaw’s face grew stony again. “Crowfrost.”

Heronpaw started. He had meant to poke fun at Hawkpaw’s obvious feelings for Morningpaw. The mention of the third brother sent his blood running cold in his veins.

“You noticed too?” All good humor faded from Heronpaw’s voice.

“He was really angry that you disappeared.” Hawkpaw paused to tug a burr from his shoulder fur. “I thought he would come around when you came home but…” he trailed off.

“He’s different.” Heronpaw said quietly. There was silence between them as they hopped down the steep forest ledge that gave way to pebbly shore. The Greatrocks loomed in the near distance. Shadowy shapes flitted about on the shore ahead.

Now that he had confirmation that others had noticed the change in Crowfrost, Heronpaw’s fears that his brother had been taken by the unknown darkness only intensified.

As they drew nearer to the great body of cats Hawkpaw slowed his stride again. “Could Snowfall’s warning be about tonight?”

“Snowbreeze.” Heronpaw corrected slowly as he considered Hawkpaw’s words. He hadn’t considered that. The night of a gathering was a time of peace for the Clans. The truce had to be obeyed. WillowClan’s actions during the last full-moon made Heronpaw unsure of the truth of that anymore.

The brothers fell silent as they approached the gathered cats. Kestrelfeather caught sight of them and waved his tail. “There you are. We were just about to send someone to look for you.”

“Thorn.” Heronpaw replied. He lifted his right forepaw and gave it a shake.

Kestrelfeather nodded and turned back to a group of warriors. Heronpaw recognized only CedarClan and PineClan cats. The other Clans must not be here yet.

As he scanned the heads of the warriors in Kestrelfeather’s group Heronpaw’s gaze met a familiar pair of yellow eyes. His stomach lurched as if he had fallen from an unexpected height. It was Longshadow; one of the PineClan warriors who had caught him trespassing over a quarter-moon ago.

The warrior’s eyes narrowed but he didn’t say anything. Heronpaw wondered if the patrol had ever reported him to Griffonstar. How would they explain the unearthly sound that Snowbreeze had made to facilitate his escape? He shook his head. He couldn’t worry about that now. Another scolding from Blizzardstar was the least of his worries.

Heronpaw ducked his head and wove his way between groups of chatting cats. Hawkpaw veered away, saying something about meeting Morningpaw. Heronpaw waved his brother off with his tail. There was something Heronpaw needed to do.

He made his way to the far side of the inlet and sat on the cold stones. From here he would be able to see AlderClan approach.

He had no proof, other than a feeling in his gut, that he would see Petalpaw tonight. As good as it was that he finally had another ally within the Clan, Heronpaw found himself longing for her wisdom and companionship. There was so much to tell her. So much to say. He shifted his paws on the pebbles impatiently.

He didn’t have to wait long before a shadowy blob emerged from behind a curve in PineClan’s shore-line. Heronpaw’s heart leapt.

As it drew closer the blob separated out into individual shapes of cats. He could make out Eaglestar’s proud silhouette at the head of the patrol. Riverwhisper’s slim figure flanked him on one side. On the other side Heronpaw could make out two shapes. One was shorter than the other and walked with a graceful stride.

Heronpaw jumped to his paws. Within a few heartbeats the AlderClan delegation had drawn near enough for the light of the moon to illuminate individual pelts. Heronpaw’s breath caught as Petalpaw’s white chest and face framed by swirling tabby patterns were lit up by the soft glow.

She was talking to the AlderClan medicine cat, Finchfoot, with an easy familiarity. She looked quite at home among the rival Clan’s members. A young warrior bounded up beside her and said something into her ear that made her nudge him playfully.

Heronpaw’s heart sank. She looked so carefree.

“Petalpaw!”

A cry from behind Heronpaw made Petalpaw look around. Her green eyes grew wide and her pace quickened. A multicolored pelt flashed by where Heronpaw sat.

Morningpaw met her sister mid-stride. They collided a few tail-lengths in front of the AlderClan patrol. The mountain-dwelling cats overtook the reunited sisters. Many looked pleased as they passed. Finchfoot just rolled his eyes and left his temporary apprentice behind.

Heronpaw tried to quell the feeling of disappointment that had risen in his chest. Of course Morningpaw should be the first to see Petalpaw. Heronpaw wasn’t even in the top five cats that Petalpaw deserved to see first. His fantasy of their eyes meeting from across the shore melted away as hot shame burned at his ears.

Heronpaw hardly noticed as Hawkpaw padded up and took a seat beside his brother. They watched as Sweetsorrel pushed through the crowd of dispersing AlderClan warriors to get to her daughters. Even the largest warriors shied away from the queen’s fiery determination.

The she-cats managed to make their way over to the gathering inlet in between licks and nuzzles. Plumleaf and Finchfoot stood waiting for them at the foot of the Greatrocks. Petalpaw’s ears and tail drooped as she caught sight of her mentor.

Sweetsorrel stalked up to the medicine cat. A mother’s challenge evident in her stiff posture. Plumleaf said something Heronpaw could not hear. Sweetsorrel’s bravado diminished and she moved aside.

Morningpaw would not leave her sister’s side so easily. She stood at Petalpaw’s flank and did not move.

Heronpaw wished he could have calmed Petalpaw’s nerves as she approached her mentor. He wanted to tell her what he knew; Plumleaf was not angry. The Clan was healthy. It was not meant to be, however, and Petalpaw bowed her head to her superior with flattened ears and a tucked in tail.

Heronpaw watched as Finchfoot and Plumleaf exchanged a few words. The AlderClan medicine cat moved away with a nod. Plumleaf turned her fierce gaze onto Morningpaw. To the apprentice’s credit she held her ground for far longer than Heronpaw had ever seen any cat get away with. Eventually she too was thwarted and, with one last comforting lick to the top of her sister’s head, she padded away.

“I think I love her.” Hawkpaw blurted out.

Heronpaw blinked and wrenched his gaze off of Petalpaw. “What?”

Hawkpaw was getting to his feet as Morningpaw drew closer to them. She kept shooting worried looks over her shoulder.

“Morningpaw.” Hawkpaw said, his voice shaking slightly. “I love her.”

Heronpaw didn’t know what to say. “Good?” He managed.

Hawkpaw tore his eyes away from the approaching calico. Their gray depths shone with a calm determination. “We’re going to protect her. We’re going to protect them all.”

Heronpaw shook away his surprise and nodded firmly.

Hawkpaw nodded back then walked forward to meet Morningpaw. He touched her forehead with his muzzle in the softest gesture Heronpaw had ever seen come from the tabby. The two apprentices moved away. Hawkpaw muttering into Morningpaw’s ear all the while.

Heronpaw watched them go. A warmth he did not expect flooded through him. He was happy for his brother.

 _Please, StarClan. Let him come out of this okay. He deserves it the most._ Heronpaw thought to himself.

After Hawkpaw and Morningpaw had disappeared into the crowd Heronpaw looked back to where Plumleaf and Petalpaw sat. He was surprised to see Petalpaw sitting there alone. Her happy posture was back and she was scanning the gathered cats with hopeful eyes.

Heronpaw stood up and raised his tail. 

Their eyes met.

Petalpaw jumped to her feet and headed straight to him. She arrived in mere heartbeats. Her herb-laden scent carried the freshness of mountain air and the stony fragrance of AlderClan, but underneath was the warm perfume Heronpaw smelled in his dreams.

“You did it.” Petalpaw said. Her green eyes searched his face. “You saved them.”

Heronpaw shook his head. “Dawnheart found the catmint.”

Petalpaw narrowed her eyes and huffed loudly. “Don’t give me that. Your help was just as important as his.”

Heronpaw purred. “Does that mean you’ll accept all the praise and thanks from the Clan when we get home?”

Petalpaw faked a scowl. “I’d rather leave that to you.”

Heronpaw’s light heartedness faded slightly. “I’m sorry.” He said in a lower voice.

Petalpaw tilted her head. “For what?”

“For what I said before I left.”

Petalpaw shook her head. “Don’t be. You were just trying to help the Clan.”

Heronpaw swallowed his guilt. That wasn’t entirely true. He had wanted Petalpaw to leave an injured apprentice to die so that he wouldn’t have to go home without her.

“How is he?” He said. He cringed as the image of the apprentice’s horrific belly wound came to mind. He had no idea how any cat could survive such a terrible injury.

“Hornedpaw?” Petalpaw’s face fell a little. “He could be better. His wound has barely closed and he’s going to be nest-bound for moons.”

“He lived?” Heronpaw couldn’t keep the shock out of his voice.

Petalpaw eyed him. “Of course.” She sniffed.

Heronpaw cocked his head and stared at her. Her confidence fled.

“I’ll admit that things didn’t look great when you left...”

Heronpaw snorted. “His inside was on the outside.”

Petalpaw shoved him. Her touch lingered on his flank as she pressed into him. The moment was fleeting, but it filled Heronpaw with new strength and an admittedly pleasant tingling sensation in his belly.

Petalpaw looked past his head. “It looks like the leaders want to start. I’d better find Plumleaf.” She looked up at him. Their eyes met for a heartbeat. Heronpaw had to restrain himself from asking her not to go.

“Find me after. I have a lot to tell you.” He breathed instead.

She nodded and turned away. In a blink she was swallowed up by the growing crowd.

Heronpaw stood rooted to the spot for a few more heartbeats. He shook himself. He needed to find a good vantage point to watch the gathering from. He studied the tree-line behind him. If he lay at the foot of the drop-off among the dangling roots would he remain unnoticed? He glanced around as casually as he could muster, but he needn’t worry. All eyes were turning to the Greatrocks in anticipation for the gathering to begin.

Heronpaw slipped away from the bulk of the crowd and headed to his hiding place. He was a few tail-lengths away when a voice stopped him in his tracks.

“What are you doing?” The deep mew made his belly clench. Of all the cats to see him, why did it have to be his father?

Heronpaw turned to face Falconstorm. The warrior was standing halfway between Heronpaw and the rest of the Clan cats. His tail was swishing and his eyes were narrowed in suspicion.

Heronpaw’s mouth went dry. His newfound ability to lie dried up in his throat as Falconstorm fixed him with a hardened look.

“I was…” Heronpaw trailed off. Looking into Falconstorm’s eyes made him feel sick. “Nothing.” The apprentice finished lamely.

Falconstorm didn’t react. He stepped aside and gestured for Heronpaw to head back to the gathering.

Heronpaw obeyed without question. He scurried past his father and made to disappear into the crowd.

Falconstorm blocked his way. “Stay here. You’ll cause a disturbance.”

Heronpaw dropped to his haunches. He noticed that the gathering had already begun despite WillowClan’s continued absence. Eaglestar was addressing the Clans first.

Falconstorm settled down slightly behind his son.

Heronpaw could feel the warrior’s eyes on his back. He tried to ignore the feeling by focusing on what Eaglestar was saying.

“…extend our thanks to Petalpaw of CedarClan for assisting Finchfoot in Hornedpaw’s recovery.” The great golden tabby was saying. He dipped his large head to Blizzardstar and then to a spot at the foot of the Greatrocks where Heronpaw assumed Petalpaw was sitting with Plumleaf.

“AlderClan has three new apprentices as Larkflight and Nighthawk’s kits have come of age. We also welcome a new warrior, Mothbreeze.”

Heronpaw cheered for Petalpaw and the new warrior along with the other Clans, but his heart wasn’t in it. Usually Falconstorm avoided and ignored Heronpaw. He had never gone out of his way to speak to him, reprimand or not. His presence now was unnerving Heronpaw to his core.

Heronpaw’s wandering thoughts made him miss the end of Eaglestar’s speech. Blizzardstar was now the one at the edge of the Greatrocks. Heronpaw stiffened and made himself pay attention this time.

“Cats of all Clans,” Blizzardstar began in his booming voice, “The sickness brought upon CedarClan this last moon has been banished by our talented medicine cat, Plumleaf, however it grieves me to say that despite her expertise Beepelt was taken to StarClan.”

A soft murmur of grief passed through the crowd.

Heronpaw wasn’t surprised that Blizzardstar didn’t mention Heronpaw, Dawnheart, or the kittypets. It would reveal Heronpaw’s foray into other Clan territory and be perceived as a weakness by some of the less understanding in the crowd.

Blizzardstar let the mutters go on for a time. He turned his head slightly as if he was looking for something. He nodded once, satisfied. He turned back to the gathering and continued.

“Beepelt was not the only casualty CedarClan experienced this moon.” The white tom’s command of the crowd cracked as cats began turning to see what Blizzardstar had noticed. Heronpaw craned his neck over the heads of the sitting cats and saw that WillowClan had finally arrived.

Blizzardstar paused as the WillowClan cats gathered at the edge of the inlet. They stayed in a tight knot and took their seats quickly. Cougarstar launched herself up the Greatrocks in two mighty leaps. Blizzardstar nodded at her politely as she joined the other leaders. She did not acknowledge the gesture. Instead she dropped onto her haunches and surveyed the Clans with narrowed pale green eyes.

No deputy followed her.

Blizzardstar waited for the mutters to die down before continuing.

“As I was saying, Beepelt was not the only casualty CedarClan suffered. Both Spottedfur and Blackmoth fell to WillowClan claws.”

There was a moment where the gathered cats digested what was just said. A warrior was killed in battle, that was normal, but Spottedfur? Heronpaw could see the looks of comprehension dawn on Eaglestar and Griffonstar’s faces. Gasps ran through the crowd as other cats began to realize as well.

Blizzardstar raised his voice over the noise. It died down as he spoke.

“Blackmoth’s death was justified. She was killed in battle, a fate any true warrior would gladly meet.” Blizzardstar rounded on Cougarstar. Cold fury fueled his next words. “Spottedfur was _not_ a warrior.”

Eaglestar leapt to his paws. “Is this true?” He demanded of Cougarstar.

Griffonstar said nothing, but her yellow eyes were locked on Cougarstar.

The WillowClan leader raised her head high. “She was a trespasser and prey stealer.”

Blizzardstar spat. “She was an _elder queen_. She posed no threat to you.”

“Any trespasser is a threat to my Clan.” Cougarstar snarled. “She paid the penalty for her crime.”

Eaglestar shook his head, incredulous. “You sanction _death_ as a punishment for trespassing?”

“And prey stealing.” Cougarstar shot back.

“She let that mouse go once she realized she had crossed the border.” Blizzardstar’s voice was low and dangerous.

“Why wait a full moon before exposing me?” Cougarstar changed the subject with a toss of her brown head. “Clearly you are using her death as a piece to play in your game.”

“I came to the border that night. Your warriors refused me.” Blizzardstar hissed. “If you had taken responsibility then I would not be forced to ‘expose’ you now.”

Cougarstar seemed to have nothing to say. She glared at Blizzardstar with a half-sneer frozen on her face.

In the momentary silence, Griffonstar spoke up.

“Might I suggest further deliberation on our part?” She curled her tail around her paws. Her narrowed eyes flicked from Blizzardstar to Cougarstar. 

“What is there to discuss?” Eaglestar said. He took a step so he was between the CedarClan and WillowClan leaders. “It is a simple matter.”

“Perhaps as it stands,” responded Griffonstar, “but we might not know the whole story.” The PineClan leader turned to Cougarstar and gave her a curt nod. “Is there anything else we should know?”

Cougarstar looked for a moment as though she might comply. The momentary reason disappeared from her face and her lips drew back in an ugly snarl. 

“Why should I defend myself to you?” she spat. “You, who can’t even defend her own territory from a pack of mangy rouges.”

Griffonstar gaped, clearly taken aback.

Beartooth, the PineClan deputy, leapt to his paws on the rocky ledge below.

“How do you know of PineClan’s business?” he demanded in a hoarse yowl.

Cougarstar ignored him and continued, rounding on Eaglestar next. “And _you_. You can’t even drive away a single fox. It just keeps coming back, doesn’t it?”

Eaglestar blinked, startled. He opened his mouth but nothing came out.

Cougarstar sneered at the golden tom and turned on her last adversary. Blizzardstar held his ground and fixed her with a withering stare. The WillowClan leader flashed her long teeth at him.

“Ah yes, the great Blizzardstar.” Her words dripped with malice. “So incompetent that you had to rely on _kitty-pets_ to save you from greencough. Tell me, how long are those three mange-pelt frog-brains staying in your camp? Or are you so impressed by their strength and skill that you’re begging them to stay?” 

To Heronpaw’s horror, Blizzardstar actually seemed shocked by the extent of Cougarstar’s knowledge. He faltered in the face of her accusation. The WillowClan leader took her opportunity and shoved her way to the edge of the leader’s rock.

She gripped the edge of the gray stone with her long claws and stared down at the stunned crowd.

“Cats of all Clans. Now you see the failings of the leaders you put your trust in.” Cougarstar waved her thick tail at the three leaders behind her. “How can they keep you safe if they cannot conceal their weaknesses from your enemies?”

The WillowClan leader lashed her tail. “These moons of peace have done nothing but make you soft. Would your ancestors abide trespassing? Would they stoop so low as to accept help from rival Clans and,” she bore her teeth in a deadly display, “ _kitty-pets_?”

“The Clans of old fought for their lives here. They bled and died to preserve the warrior code. _Never_ should it be broken, challenged, or changed, lest we be guilty of pissing on their graves.”

The words struck Heronpaw like a blow to the belly.

_He believed that the code was never to be broken, challenged, or changed._

A chill skittered across Heronpaw’s spine. He stared up at Cougarstar’s face. A horrible blackness was curling out from behind her like smoke. It caressed her form with gnarled tendrils. Heronpaw froze and forced himself to blink. As quickly as the blackness had appeared it vanished.

Heronpaw felt another chill pass over him. Someone was watching him. He tore his eyes away from the WillowClan leader and scanned the crowd in front of him. Every head was turned towards Cougarstar. Every eye was on her.

All but those two.

Two poisonous green eyes stared at him from the face of a sliver she-cat several tail-lengths away. Heronpaw felt his entire body seize up. The sensation was horribly familiar.

Buzzing filled Heronpaw’s ears, drowning out every sound other than his own heartbeat. A terrible nausea overcame him as he was drawn deeper into her gaze. He couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. Panic hovered at the back of his mind like a dully humming hornet.

The she-cat held him hostage with her stare until Heronpaw’s chest ached from lack of air. With a subtle sneer the silver cat turned away and was gone.

Heronpaw gasped and sucked in a fresh breath of air. He buckled forward and hacked out several painful coughs. The cats around him barely reacted. Heronpaw looked up at the Greatrocks through watering eyes.

Cougarstar was still standing there. She glared a challenge at the other leaders. “Some of us are guilty already.”

Confused, Heronpaw wondered how long he had been bound by the silver cat. It had felt like hours, but the evidence suggested that it had been only heartbeats.

“I am ready to lead WillowClan into a new era of strength and prosperity.” Cougarstar addressed the gathering as a whole again. “Obedience to the warrior code is the only way we can truly live as warriors. If any of you feel that your leader is denying you your StarClan-gifted right to live as the warrior code commands I extend an invitation to you now. Come to WillowClan. We will show you what it is to not only survive, but to _thrive_.”

The crowd was shocked out of its silence.

Warriors everywhere were leaping to their feet and yowling. No one cat could be heard over the explosion of noise. Heronpaw found that he couldn’t take his eyes off of Cougarstar.

Heronpaw felt movement behind him and turned to see Falconstorm getting to his paws. The warrior lifted his head.

“ _Enough!_ ” He roared.

The effect was like a pebble dropped in water. The cats closest to Falconstorm fell silent first. The reaction spread in waves until the shore was quiet once more.

Heronpaw stared at his father in awe.

Cougarstar fixed her eyes on the CedarClan warrior.

Falconstorm met her gaze. A raging storm could have ripped the trees up by their roots and carried the lake away and the two cats would still be standing strong.

“What kind of cat would let those in need die due to pride?” Falconstorm called. His voice carried no anger or mockery. “What kind of warrior would abandon their Clan to join another?”

Cougarstar’s sneer returned. Before she could respond, however, a new, lilting voice rang out.

“I’m so glad you asked.”

Every head turned to look as a slim black and gray tom padded forward from the middle of the WillowClan cats. He wasted no time in leaping up the Greatrocks to stand next to Cougarstar. The tom turned and swept the crowd with uninterested yellow eyes.

Heronpaw’s mouth went dry.

Falconstorm froze beside him.

The newcomer found Falconstorm and narrowed his eyes.

“Why _would_ any cat leave his Clan, brother?”


	33. Gone

For the second time in a half-moon Dawnheart found himself outside his territory and on his way towards the place he was born. This time, though, he wasn’t alone.

Kibby and Frayclaw flanked him. Oliver and Talonscore had taken the lead and Fitzy brought up the rear. Dawnheart was surrounded by friends, family, and Clanmates this time. What could be better?

His whiskers twitched as Frayclaw and Kibby’s argument started up again and he remembered why he was between them in the first place.

“I’m just saying, you can’t say you don’t like it if you’ve never tried it.” Kibby insisted.

“I don’t have to eat kittypet food to know I won’t like it.” Frayclaw said with a flick of his tail.

“You don’t even know what it tastes like!” Kibby protested. Again.

“I know what your breath _smells_ like.” Frayclaw muttered.

Kibby made a tight noise of indignation.

“Enough.” Dawnheart said before the fluffy she-cat could properly respond. “Every cat has different tastes.”

Frayclaw rolled his eyes. “My taste is real food.”

Kibby stuck out her tongue at the warrior from around Dawnheart’s shoulder.

“Food?” Dawnheart turned to face his denmate. “Remember when you got a belly ache from eating too many juniper berries?”

Frayclaw’s eyes got wide. “Those are food.” He protested.

“Those are _medicine._ ” Dawnheart said with good humor. He flicked his tail across Frayclaw’s flank.

Frayclaw’s ears flattened in embarrassment and he said no more.

The group slowed to a stop as they left the trees and neared the Thunderpath. Dawnheart could smell the acrid scent on the chill night breeze. He suppressed a shudder as he remembered what it felt like to tear across the black expanse on terror-hastened paws.

“We can make it from here.” Oliver said as he looked around at the tall grass.

Dawnheart’s lightened mood fell slightly. “Are you sure?”

Fitzy padded past the group and poked his head through the dry brown vegetation. “I can see the road.” He said with a flick of his crooked tail.

“The road always leads home.” Oliver heaved a bittersweet sigh. He turned to the others. His yellow eyes glowing with warmth. “This is where we say goodbye.”

Kibby pressed herself to Dawnheart’s flank. Her large eyes were downcast and her short tail drooped. For once she seemed lost for words.

Dawnheart rested his chin atop her head. “It’s not goodbye forever.” He reassured her.

She pushed her head into his chest fur and mumbled something that sounded like an affirmation. Dawnheart felt a rush of affection for the she-cat.

“Don’t forget to tell Jasmine what happened.” Dawnheart said as he gently extricated himself from Kibby’s embrace. She nodded and sniffed loudly.

“Thank you again. My kits will grow up knowing your names.” Talonscore was saying to the other house cats. The scarred warrior dipped his head in a low bow to the two toms. Fitzy looked distinctly uncomfortable.

“Anytime.” Fitzy said without making eye contact.

Oliver touched his nose to Talonscore’s ear. “They’ll be the best in the Clan.”

Dawnheart stepped forward and touched his nose to each tom’s ear in turn. “Goodbye. Thank you for everything.”

Fitzy just sniffed. He gave a final nod and then slipped through the withered grass and out of sight.

“He’s not good at goodbyes.” Oliver said, watching him go.

Dawnheart shrugged.

Oliver looked at Dawnheart with a sideways glance. The older cat shuffled his paws and his tail swished once. “Tell Plumleaf thank you for me, will you? I didn’t get the chance before she left.”

“I told you to do it yourself!” Kibby said with a huff.

Oliver shot her a look from narrowed eyes. “I didn’t want to bother her.”

Dawnheart couldn’t help but purr. “I’ll let her know.” He promised.

Relaxing slightly, Oliver dipped his head to Talonscore and Frayclaw once more. The warriors returned the gesture. Oliver turned to Kibby and nodded to her.

“It’s time to go.” He said. 

Kibby’s tail fell to the frozen ground. She looked at Dawnheart with shining eyes. He felt a pang of sympathy for her as he realized that she had had to say goodbye to their littermates before. She hadn’t seen them since.

Dawnheart touched his nose to hers. “I promise we will see each other again.”

Kibby blinked softly and purred. “We’d better.” Her voice was tight.

“Run along, now.” Dawnheart said, straightening up and nodding towards the Thunderpath. “That twoleg boy you told me all about will be wondering where you got to.”

Kibby’s eyes widened as if she just remembered something. She stood a little taller and nodded firmly. The she-cat turned to Oliver and waved her tail. “What are we waiting for? Let’s go!”

The kittypets waved their tails in farewell one last time before disappearing into the long grass. Dawnheart watched his sister go, a feeling of melancholy filling his belly.

Wordlessly the CedarClan warriors turned and began the journey back to their own territory. They walked in silence until they were back under tree cover.

Talonscore was the first to speak. “I owe Quailstep a squirrel.”

Dawnheart flattened one ear. “Why’s that?”

“I bet her that Fitzy would ask to stay.” The ginger warrior said. “That one fit right in.”

Dawnheart considered Talonscore’s words briefly. “True,” he relented, “but his loyalties lie elsewhere.”

Talonscore sniffed. “I can’t fathom how they live with Twolegs.” He gave himself a shake. “Getting near the Thunderpath was close enough for me.”

“Twolegs aren’t so bad.” Dawnheart said without thinking.

Talonscore shot him a strange look.

“Their nests are awful though.” Dawnheart added quickly. “I’d rather lose my tail than set paw in one ever again.”

Seeming satisfied, Talonscore took the lead and headed through the nighttime forest. The patrol walked in silence until they reached the CedarClan border. Talonscore left them a few tree-lengths into the territory.

“I’ll test my luck on that squirrel.” He had said before heading down slope towards the lake.

Frayclaw and Dawnheart were alone now. They walked in silence for a bit. Dawnheart couldn’t help but feel a little awkward. They hadn’t had time to themselves since he had come back from Twolegplace.

Dawnheart tried to lighten the mood. “I’m surprised Oliver didn’t ask to stay, what with how he talked about Plumleaf.” He nudged Frayclaw. Frayclaw shrugged.

There was another long silence as the warriors climbed over a fallen tree trunk. On the other side Frayclaw stopped entirely. Dawnheart slowed to a halt and turned to face him.

“What’s-“

“I was afraid you were going to go with them.” Frayclaw interrupted.

Dawnheart’s belly lurched. His thoughts flew to that day under the hawthorn bush in a gentle snowfall where he had considered never going home. He shoved the thoughts away. He had made his choice then.

Before Dawnheart could voice his surety Frayclaw continued. His gray eyes fixed Dawnheart with an intense stare.

“Did you want to?”

Dawnheart shook his head. “No. My home is with CedarClan.” He brushed his cheek along Frayclaw’s jawline. “My home is with you.”

Frayclaw stiffened at Dawnheart’s touch. Dawnheart drew back, concerned he had done something wrong. Frayclaw avoided eye contact. Dawnheart tried to lighten the mood again.

“I could never leave. Who will be your deputy when you become leader?”

Frayclaw snorted. There was a hint of humor in the sound. “Leader?”

“Of course.” Dawnheart said, relieved. He started walking again. Frayclaw followed.

“You’re stoic, intimidating, strong…you’re perfect for the job.” Dawnheart added.

Frayclaw shook his head. “I don’t want to be leader.”

Dawnheart cocked his head. “Then what are you going to do with all that?” he gestured at Frayclaw with his tail.

Frayclaw stopped again and looked into Dawnheart’s eyes. Dawnheart paused. He was frozen by the intensity there.

“I want to serve my Clan by your side.” Frayclaw took a step closer so their muzzles were a mouse length apart. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

Dawnheart’s mind had slowed. He was confused. “Why me?”

Frayclaw’s eyes searched Dawnheart’s face. “Isn’t it obvious?” His voice was low.

A shiver went down Dawnheart’s spine. Why was Frayclaw saying these things? And what was this that Dawnheart was feeling? Disbelief? Confusion?

Happiness?

He didn’t get the chance to figure that out. A loud rustling in the dead undergrowth close by made both toms jump and whirl around.

Talonscore burst from the darkness. His bushed out tail and unsheathed claws rang of alarm.

“What’s wrong?” Frayclaw demanded.

Talonscore glanced over his shoulder with wild eyes. “Rouges.”

Dawnheart gripped the frozen ground with his claws. “Where?”

“By the PineClan border.” Talonscore said. “They’re heading to camp.” Without another word the ginger warrior whipped around and took off through the night.

Dawnheart and Frayclaw exchanged glanced before pelting after him.

Blood roared in Dawnheart’s ears as they ran. The rogues were back, and on the night of the full moon no less. There was no telling how much damage a pack of angry rouges could do to an under-defended Clan.

A thought occurred to Dawnheart. He put on a burst of speed and caught up to Talonscore. He ran at the warrior’s side and called to him.

“How do you know they’re heading to camp?”

“They were being led.” Talonscore said in a raised voice.

Dawnheart nodded and pulled back. He fell in beside Frayclaw again.

“One of us should run to the lake.” Dawnheart said between breaths.

Frayclaw nodded. “You’re faster.”

“Right.” Dawnheart nodded back.

Frayclaw drew close enough that Dawnheart could feel the gray warrior’s shoulder brush against his. Frayclaw glanced at Dawnheart and gave him a look that the cream-colored warrior couldn’t quite place. The moment lasted less than half a heartbeat. Then Frayclaw’s eyes were fixed on the forest ahead and Dawnheart was left feeling breathless.

“Go.” Frayclaw said.

Dawnheart pulled away and headed off towards a break in the trees to his right. He stretched his paws out as far as they could go and really began to run. His strides carried him so fast that the scenery around him blurred into a moonlit splash of vague shapes and shadows.

He let himself fly through the trees at blinding speed. The night air bit at his nose and ear-tips. He barely felt each footfall as his paws skimmed the frozen ground. Despite the urgency that carried him he couldn’t help but feel a joyous freedom as he ran.

It wasn’t long before he could see the shimmer of the lake through the trees. He slowed only to make sure he didn’t lose his footing on the more uneven ground. He had only just reached the tree-line drop-off when he heard something nearby.

Dawnheart slowed and dropped into a crouch. Something was near, just beyond his vision in the undergrowth. His mind screamed at him to ignore it and run to Blizzardstar but his instincts kept him low to the ground.

Whatever was there did not want to be seen.

Dawnheart came to a stop behind a rock. His heart pounded in his ears. He looked ahead and saw the gathering taking place. It was too far away for Dawnheart to make out any details, but it looked as though a fifth cat had joined the leaders on the Greatrocks.

Confused, Dawnheart lifted his head just slightly. He had never heard of or seen such a thing. What was-?

His thoughts were interrupted as a huge force slammed into his side. His head connected with the rock beside him.

With a crack and a flash of white light, Dawnheart’s senses were deadened to the world.


	34. Mirror

Heronpaw stared up at the cat standing at Cougarstar’s side. It was like staring into the lake at his own face. This cat had confidence and leisure that Heronpaw didn’t, but their markings and eyes were practically identical. Kestrelfeather hadn’t been exaggerating when he said they looked the same.

Heronpaw cast a sideways glance at his father. The look on Falconstorm’s face took Heronpaw back. All seriousness and calm was gone from the warrior’s face. He stared ahead with wide, unseeing eyes. His shoulder’s had slumped, his ears were laid back and his mouth moved wordlessly.

Falconstorm was completely frozen by shock.

“Cranewing?!” Kestrelfeather’s voice was hoarse with disbelief. Heronpaw turned to see his uncle standing a little ways away. His green eyes were stretched wide but his demeanor hadn’t completely crumbled like Falconstorm’s had.

Cranewing’s yellow eyes fell on the auburn warrior. He didn’t seem the least bit fazed. “Hello, Kestrelfeather.”

Blizzardstar recovered from his momentary lapse and stepped forward. “Cranewing, where have you been?” his voice was confused but earnest.

Cranewing rolled his eyes and faced his former leader. “What does it matter to you?”

Blizzardstar opened his mouth to respond but Cranewing snapped over the white tom’s sentence.

“Oh, right. It doesn’t.” Cranewing turned his back on Blizzardstar and faced the crowd of oddly silent cats again.

Cougarstar looked at Cranewing fondly before stepping up to the lip of the rock again. “Cats of all Clans may I introduce WillowClan’s new deputy; Cranewing.”

Total silence met her words.

Heronpaw took the opportunity to try to get Falconstorm’s attention. He leaned forward and tried to get his father to look at him.

“Falconstorm?” he tried.

The tabby didn’t flinch.

Heronpaw swallowed and tried again. “Father?” The word felt strange.

Falconstorm jerked and his amber eyes met Heronpaw’s. His nostrils flared and he lifted a forepaw from the ground. For a moment Heronpaw thought that his father was going to either flee or attack.

Falconstorm blinked and his eyes refocused. “Heronpaw.” He said as if he were testing the name on his tongue.

“WillowClan’s offer still stands.” Cougarstar called into the silence. “Come to us and live as a warrior should.”

Heronpaw looked up at Blizzardstar and the other leaders. Eaglestar was staring at Cougarstar like she was crazy. Griffonstar’s expression was hard to read. Blizzardstar himself was still fixated on his former warrior.

A sudden cry from the PineClan tree-line made every cat jump and look around. A long-furred gray she-cat stumbled from the trees and landed heavily on the stony bank. She struggled to her feet and looked up at Griffonstar. The PineClan leader’s stony front broke and she quickly rose to her paws.

“Moonpaw, what-“The ginger she-cat began.

“Rouges are attacking the camp!” Moonpaw gasped.

The tension over the Gathering shattered like ice. PineClan cats were jumping to their feet every which way. Griffonstar wasted no time launching herself off of the Greatrocks and onto the bank. Her deputy followed her.

Before anycat could properly react, Griffonstar had gathered her Clan to her.

Blizzardstar called out from the leader’s perch. “Do you need help, Griffonstar?”

Griffonstar flashed Blizzardstar a look from her fierce yellow eyes. “PineClan can deal with this ourselves.” She spat. With a lash of her thin tail she sped off towards her territory. Her Clan streamed out behind her. Within moments PineClan was gone.

Concerned muttering broke out among the remaining cats. Blizzardstar and Eaglestar glanced at each other, unsure what to do. Cougarstar hadn’t reacted at all.

With a jolt, Heronpaw looked at the small group of WillowClan cats. They didn’t look surprised. Three of them were looking up at their leader in awe, while the other looked satisfied. A sudden fear gripped Heronpaw’s belly.

Before he could voice his worry it seemed that somecat else had come to the same conclusion. To his relief it had been Blizzardstar.

The CedarClan leader whipped around to face Cougarstar and her new deputy. “Did you know about this?” he demanded.

Cougarstar held her ground and stared back into Blizzardstar’s face. She blinked once and drew her lips back into a subtle snarl.

Blizzardstar wasted no time. “CedarClan, to me!”

Heronpaw was already on his feet. Thankfully, so was Falconstorm. The CedarClan cats swarmed to their leader as he and Whiteshade descended from the rocks. Blizzardstar began running as soon as his paws hit the ground.

Heronpaw glanced at Falconstorm once more to make sure his father was following. The warrior’s straight back and serious air had returned. Satisfied that Falconstorm was in his right state of mind, Heronpaw turned and surged ahead.

He scanned the crowd of running cats until he found Hawkpaw and Morningpaw running together near the outmost edge. Heronpaw veered to the side and caught up with them.

Hawkpaw cast his brother a glance. There was a question in his gray eyes. Heronpaw shook his head. He wasn’t sure of anything. All he knew was that his Clan was most likely in danger.

. . .

Crowfrost stepped back into the shadows of a frosted boulder and watched as his Clan disappeared into the forest. The commotion had done what he’d hoped. No cat turned and called for him. No cat noticed he was gone.

He couldn’t help but watch Petalpaw as she ran alongside her mentor. She was likely heading into danger, but Crowfrost found himself calm at the thought. _She_ had promised Petalpaw would be safe. She had not been wrong yet.

He waited there as Eaglestar gathered his Clan and left as well. The golden tom seemed agitated but unwilling to show his panic. The mountain-dwelling cats left at a quickened, but not urgent, pace.

Once AlderClan was gone, Cougarstar loped down from the Greatrocks with an uncaring grace. She waved her thick tail at the five warriors she had brought with her. They clustered around her, eyes bright and tails twitching with excitement.

Cougarstar leaned close to her new deputy and they exchanged a few words Crowfrost was too far to hear. Cougarstar drew back and nodded. She turned and gave the signal to her warriors to move out. All followed without question. All but one.

Crowfrost had to press himself against the boulder as WillowClan raced past. None of them seemed to notice him. Their glinting eyes stared straight ahead with fevered purpose.

It took only moments for the WillowClan cats to disappear. Crowfrost waited until he could no longer hear the soft thumps of pawsteps on the pebbled shore. With a calming breath he stepped out from behind the boulder’s shadow.

A lone cat was sitting in the moonlight on the abandoned beach. He sat straight backed and facing away from Crowfrost. His tail was wrapped casually around his front paws.

Crowfrost took a few cautious steps towards Cranewing. The similarity between the new deputy and Heronpaw was uncanny. It made Crowfrost distinctly uncomfortable. Even more than that, Cranewing’s mere existence made Crowfrost wary. Falconstorm had another brother that the Clan just didn’t talk about? Where had he been all this time? Why was he now in WillowClan?

Crowfrost swallowed his misgivings as he remembered her words.

_Keep an eye out for a familiar face._

This had to be what she meant.

Cranewing stiffened. Crowfrost froze. The black and gray warrior turned to face his newfound company. His yellow eyes looked Crowfrost up and down. They came to a rest on the black warrior’s face.

“Falconstorm’s son, right?”

His voice was the starkest difference between him and Heronpaw. Where Heronpaw’s was earnest and subdued, Cranewing’s was a slinking fox and a freezing river.

Crowfrost tried to look uninterested or calm or impressive. He didn’t really know which. He straightened his shoulders and looked Cranewing in the eye. The warrior stared back, unblinking.

Unnerved, Crowfrost let himself blink.

Cranewing cocked his head the tiniest amount. “That’s a yes then?”

Crowfrost nodded.

“Good.”

Cranewing looked around with an expectant nonchalance. Crowfrost glanced about.

Movement in the tree-line caught Crowfrost’s eye. He stiffened and felt the hair on the back of his neck rise. A moment later a cat slipped out from behind a tree and began picking their way down the shore. It was not a cat that Crowfrost immediately recognized. 

The cat’s movements showed wariness but they didn’t pause or back away as they approached. Cranewing sat and watched with calm, unblinking eyes.

Crowfrost glanced back and forth between the two, unsure. Another glimpse of movement from just behind Cranewing made Crowfrost jump a little. A second cat appeared from behind the fallen rocks at the water’s edge. This one Crowfrost did recognize. He had seen the tom’s distinctively spotted pelt at gatherings before. He was from AlderClan.

No one spoke as the newcomers drew nearer to Cranewing. He sat still and calm as he was approached from all sides. The AlderClan tom stopped about a fox-length from the deputy and sat down. His pale green eyes swept from cat to cat. They came to a rest on Crowfrost. Crowfrost pretended not to notice.

The fourth cat was near enough now that Crowfrost could determine that it was a PineClan she-cat. Her pelt was dark ginger and her wild amber eyes darted back and forth between Crowfrost and the AlderClan tom. Cranewing didn’t seem to bother her.

When she had come within a fox-length of the others, Cranewing glanced at her. “PineClan, right?”

She nodded stiffly. “Scarletclaw,” She grunted. 

Cranewing bowed to her. “Welcome,” He swung his head around to face the AlderClan warrior. “And you are?”

The spotted tabby shuffled his paws and narrowed his eyes. “Snakefeather of AlderClan.”

“Wonderful.” Cranewing drawled. He finally turned to Crowfrost and cocked his head.

Crowfrost swallowed his uncertainty. “Crowfrost of CedarClan.”

“Enough with the formalities.”

The familiar voice came with a breeze that seemed to change the world around Crowfrost in an instant. The gray-blue light of a leaf-bare moon was replaced by the warmer, yellower glow of a green-leaf night. The barren and snow-laden tree-line was lush with growth. At his paws he saw grass sprouting from between the colorful pebbles. As always, though, he could still feel the chill of leaf-bare in his fur and his pads touched frosted rock.

Crowfrost looked up to see who he had expected. She was standing atop the Greatrocks, looking down with her paralyzing green gaze. She took a moment to survey the small group before slipping down the rock-face and onto the ground. She walked with uncaring grace to Cranewing’s side. She pressed up against him and purred.

“You did well.” She said in her husky mew.

Cranewing hardly reacted to her touch.

Crowfrost glanced at the other two warriors. Snakefeather’s expression was impossible to read. Scarletclaw was glaring at everyone with obvious contempt.

“I’m pleased you were all able to be here.” The gray she-cat said.

All eyes fell on her.

“I understand the sacrifice I am asking of you, but trust me when I say that this is more important.” The StarClan she-cat locked eyes with each warrior in turn. Crowfrost saw the others visibly relax as her eyes passed over them. Crowfrost felt their calm as he found her eyes with his own.

“I think it is time for you all to know the truth.” The gray she-cat said. She looked up at Cranewing who had not moved or spoken since she had arrived. She purred and looked back at the others.

“Cranewing had the right idea with introductions.” She said. She waved her tail at Snakefeather and Crowfrost, urging them to gather closer to Scarletclaw. Crowfrost forced his paws to move. He closed the gap between himself and the rival warrior in a few strides. He sat a fox-length from her and avoided eye contact. He could feel her bristling fur from here.

Once Snakefeather had joined them the gray she-cat stepped forward on her small paws. She looked over them for a moment before dipping her head in a causal greeting gesture.

“Hello,” her eyes were green chips of ice. “My name is Songbird.”


	35. Protection

Screeches ripped through the air as Heronpaw and the rest of the CedarClan patrol neared the camp. Heronpaw couldn’t see what was happening through the darkness and thronging wave of pelts that blocked his view. He could only hear his leader’s voice rise above the commotion.

“CedarClan, attack!”

Heronpaw felt a surge of energy pulse through him as he crested the hill and burst out onto a scene of chaos.

There were rouges everywhere. Their scent choked him and made his eyes water. He felt Hawkpaw speed past him and saw his brother launch himself at the nearest ragged, mangy pelt.

The fight had not entered camp yet. Someone was holding the entrance with their body. Rouges were surging against the wall of brambles and tree trunks with a frothing, spitting rage. CedarClan warriors fell on them from every side.

Heronpaw caught sight of a familiar pelt disappearing beneath several scarred tabby rouges. With a screech of rage Heronpaw threw himself at the back of the nearest rouge. With a tremendous heave he threw the she-cat off of her prey. She squealed with shock and pain as Heronpaw’s claws pierced her thin pelt and tore her skin.

Specklepaw was pinned to the snow by the paws of the other rouge. Her green eyes blazed with fear and pain as the rouge crushed her beneath his superior weight. Heronpaw used the momentum of pulling the she-cat away to spin and ram his shoulder into the exposed flank of the tom. He let out a strangled yowl as he was thrown off of the apprentice.

Heronpaw took the opportunity to help Specklepaw. She was in a bad way. One of her front paws was twisted awkwardly and she had several deep wounds in her belly. Her wild eyes steeled as she met Heronpaw’s gaze. That was a good sign.

“Can you move?” he shouted at her over the din.

She grit her teeth and nodded.

“Find somewhere to hide.” He barely had time to get the words out before the rouge tom was back. He threw himself at Heronpaw with outstretched claws. Heronpaw ducked and let the tom tumble over him. He nudged Specklepaw to her three good feet.

“Go!”

She nodded and hobbled away towards a fallen, hollow log. Heronpaw didn’t have the time to make sure she got there safely. His opponent had recovered and was pacing back and forth close by. The rouge kept looking at Specklepaw’s retreating form. Heronpaw stood firmly between them. He slid out his claws and fell into a crouch. Their eyes met. The tom’s eyes flickered over Heronpaw’s left shoulder.

The rouge made a dash to the right.

Surprised, Heronpaw had to correct his course mid reaction. He pivoted on one paw and slashed at the rouge as he lurched by. Heronpaw’s claws ripped fur but made no significant blow. The rouge was going to reach Specklepaw before Heronpaw could regain his balance.

A flash of white and gray fur intercepted the rouge before he could take another step towards the injured apprentice. Heronpaw watched as Ferntail slashed at the rouges face with long, vicious claws.

The rouge howled with pain and veered away from his attacker. Ferntail, a light of fury in her usually soft eyes, didn’t let him. She hooked her claws into his retreating rump and pulled herself on top of his back. The rouge bucked and yowled by Ferntail held fast in his matted fur. She used her back legs to rake the tom’s spine with merciless precision.

With a final, throttled yelp, the rouge bucked hard enough to send Ferntail flying. She landed on deft paws and sped after the fleeing tom.

Confident that Specklepaw and Ferntail could take care of themselves now, Heronpaw spun and headed back into the fray. He knew he had to get to the entrance to help whoever was there. He ducked beneath flying tails and weaved between slashing claws as he made his way through the battle.

Here and there he aimed blows at unfamiliar pelts as he went, but his only thought was to get to the tunnel. After fighting his way past a skinny black she-cat, Heronpaw could finally see his goal.

Frayclaw had wedged himself inside the camp’s entrance. His face, front legs, and chest were laced with scratches but he was still standing firm. Three rouges were trying to drag him from his position but they couldn’t get a grip on the gray warrior. He shrank back into the bracken as they swiped at him, denying them a good angle.

Heronpaw pushed himself into a gallop and leapt. He landed squarely on the middle rouge’s back. The mangy ginger tabby shrieked and tried to whirl around to face his attacker. His flailing limbs shoved his companions to the side and knocked Heronpaw off of his perch. He landed with a stumble in the snow.

The other rouges hissed and tried to get back at Frayclaw but more CedarClan warriors were arriving.

Cherrynose darted forward and dragged a white and black she-cat by her tail away from Frayclaw. The rouge dug her claws into the frozen ground but Cherrynose was stronger.

Kestrelfeather appeared at Heronpaw’s side and together they blocked the ginger tabby from getting near the entrance. It felt good to be fighting side-by-side with his mentor again. Heronpaw fell into the familiar cadence of a two-on-one fight. He would step forward and slash, then duck as Kestrelfeather attacked from behind.

The ginger rouge snarled in frustration but he would not give up. His amber eyes blazed with hatred as he tried again and again to force his way past mentor and apprentice. They would not let him.

A cry from behind Heronpaw made him glance away for a moment.

A third rouge, a tabby tom, was grappling with Frayclaw. The gray warrior was struggling to gain the advantage as he was shoved further into the brambles. Heronpaw looked back at his struggling Clanmate.

“Go!” Kestrelfeather shot at him as he blocked the ginger rouge’s attempt to get past.

Heronpaw spun and fell on Frayclaw’s opponent. Heronpaw grabbed the rouge by the shoulder and pulled him away. The rouge spit and rolled, breaking Heronpaw’s grip. The tabby righted himself and faced Heronpaw with a snarl. Quick as a fish the tabby slashed at Heronpaw’s front legs.

Heronpaw tried to dodge backwards but the close quarters fighting made his back legs collide with Kestrelfeather. The rouge’s blow landed true and Heronpaw felt a sharp pain stagger across his legs. Blood spurted from the wound and onto the ground. Heronpaw stumbled to the side.

The tabby rouge took his chance and aimed a bite at Heronpaw’s weakened forelegs. Before his yellowed teeth could make contact the rouge’s head was jerked backwards.

Frayclaw had leapt forward and grabbed the back of the tom’s neck in his jaws. With a heave the gray warrior tossed the rouge aside. The tabby’s flailing limbs tripped one of his companions and the mangy cats fell into a tangled mess.

Heronpaw flashed a grateful look at Frayclaw who nodded before sinking back into his defensive position. Heronpaw turned to see if Kestrelfeather was in need of his help and saw that Stonepelt had jumped to his mentor’s side. Together they were driving the ginger tabby away with ease. More CedarClan warriors had made it to the entrance now, and rouges were being thrown aside left and right.

Heronpaw watched in stunned awe as Falconstorm knocked away two rouges at once with a massive blow. The fight was turning, but the rouge force was still pressing against CedarClan with everything they had.

“They’re in the camp!” A screech split the air from somewhere beyond the protection of the camp wall. Heronpaw whipped around and saw a crooked tail disappearing through a torn gap in the bramble barrier.

Without thought, Heronpaw ducked around his fighting Clanmates and pelted after the intruder. Thorns ripped at his fur as he scrambled through the breach. After a few heartbeats of struggling, Heronpaw burst into the camp. Three rouges had broken through and were facing the queens just outside the nursery across the clearing.

Fury boiled in Heronpaw’s brain. He thought of little Fawnkit and Waspkit, defenseless and weak. He was across the clearing in two strides. He didn’t know how he had jumped so far but he didn’t stop to ponder it. He grabbed the first flailing rouge tail he could get his teeth on. It was the crooked one.

Heronpaw bit down on the kink in the gray tabby’s tail. There was a satisfying crunch as his jaws crushed the oddly angled bone. The cat shrieked and tried to pull away but Heronpaw held fast.

Blood pounded in his ears and his vision went blurry. He bit down harder. The rouge flailed and yowled but Heronpaw would not budge. He yanked as hard as he could and tasted blood.

A sudden, huge weight on Heronpaw’s shoulders caused one of his legs to slide forward and collapse. The other crumpled beneath him into a forced crouch. He let go of the tail as his muzzle was shoved into the frozen dirt. Grit and snow stung at his eyes and nose and the breath was driven from his body.

He had been careless. He hadn’t noticed a fourth rouge.

Forcing himself to relax, Heronpaw went limp beneath his attacker’s weight. His bad shoulder burned with pain as one of the rouge’s paws pressed down on it. A flash of panic lurched in his belly. His injury hadn’t been strained this much since the accident. Fighting the pain and the nauseating feeling of his leg being slowly forced out of place, Heronpaw pushed up with half of his body.

The trick worked and the rouge was thrown off balance by Heronpaw’s sudden jerk. As the unseen foe lost its balance and stumbled, one paw came back down on Heronpaw’s shoulder. The sudden pressure did the job.

Pain, familiar yet just as breathtaking, shot through his leg. An instant numbness began spreading from his toes and up his paw. He shrieked with agony and rolled away from the rouge. His leg dragged uselessly at his side.

“Heronpaw!” Runningriver cried. She called out to him from where she was wrestling with another rouge at the nursery’s entrance.

Heronpaw looked up at her shocked face. Her momentary lapse of concentration caused her to take a nasty blow to the side of the head. Heronpaw’s stomach lurched as the silver tabby warrior reeled and fell to the side. The rouge who had dealt the blow wriggled forward and tried to enter the now only half guarded entrance.

Four paws shot out to meet his face. The rouge howled and stumbled backwards, blood spurting from his eyes. Heronpaw’s mouth dropped open as he caught a glimpse of Honeyleaf’s two nearly full-grown kits with their claws out and teeth bared.

Within a heartbeat Runningriver was back in position and shoulder-to-shoulder with Honeyleaf. Together the queens held fast against their attackers.

One of the three remaining rouges broke off from the assault on the nursery and began running straight towards the medicine den. Panic and adrenaline forced Heronpaw to his feet. His leg dangled uselessly at his side but he still had three working paws. He took a few excruciating steps towards the fleeing black tom but it proved to be too much. He stumbled and fell. The pain gurgled up into his throat and he retched out a few mouthfuls of bile.

He couldn’t make it to stop the rouge. Plumleaf’s store of herbs would be destroyed. They would fall to the sicknesses of leaf-bare after all. Heronpaw felt dizzy.

A piercing battle cry caused Heronpaw to look up. Hawkpaw and Morningpaw had managed to get through the torn entrance and were bearing down on the escaping rouge. Through watery, blurred vision Heronpaw saw Hawkpaw crash into the black rouge and take him down into a violent roll. Once the flailing limbs had settled Hawkpaw hopped backwards off of his quarry. The ragged cat was lying in the snow with its head twisted at an awkward angle.

Hawkpaw paid no heed. He turned on his heel and raced to join Morningpaw as she arrived at the nursery. The two apprentices flexed their legs in unison and jumped right over Heronpaw and onto the remaining rouges. Heronpaw watched in awe as his Clanmates tore into the invaders.

Morningpaw confounded the bigger rouge with her speed and grace. She darted in and out, landing blows on the hissing brown tom. He swiped at her with long hooked claws but she danced out of reach every time. Hawkpaw had taken the cat with the broken tail and was raking its flank with his back legs.

In a few more heartbeats it was over. The broken-tailed rouge crouched low and tucked his injured appendage beneath his flank in a submissive gesture. The larger brown tom wailed with frustration and broke away from Morningpaw. He lumbered towards the hole in the barrier and was met by Whiteshade’s claws as the CedarClan deputy burst through the brambles.

The blinded tom was huddled alone next to the nursery. He was trying desperately to rub the blood from his eyes. He let out a wail of pain with each pass of his paws.

Heronpaw let his head rest on the ground. The pain in his shoulder was getting to be too much. He closed his eyes and focused on breathing in and out.

He didn’t know how long he laid there. He was faintly aware of Hawkpaw yelling at him but he didn’t know what was being said. After what felt like hours he felt a gentle prod at his side. He peeled his eyes open and saw Petalpaw’s worried face looming over him.

Her white fur was stained with dirt and blood and her eyes reflecting the pale light of dawn. Plumleaf’s face appeared behind her apprentice’s.

Heronpaw knew what to expect when Plumleaf gripped his injured leg in her jaws. He knew to take a deep breath beforehand. He knew to bite down on his stick as hard as he could. All of that did nothing to reduce the sickening agony as his shoulder was wrenched back into place.

“You should be able to stand now.” Plumleaf said as she examined Heronpaw’s shoulder.

He nodded and struggled to his paws. Petalpaw steadied him as he tested out his leg. Plumleaf was right. The dull ache didn’t intensify as he shifted he weight around. He let out a relieved sigh. Plumleaf gave a satisfied nod and bustled away to where the queens were gathered outside the nursery.

Heronpaw turned to Petalpaw. “Is the battle over?”

She nodded. “They all ran away.” She sounded exhausted.

“Are you hurt?” Heronpaw looked her up and down. He couldn’t tell where the blood on her fur was coming from.

She shook her head. “No.” Her voice shook. She leaned into Heronpaw’s side and closed her eyes. Heronpaw let her lean on him as he took in the rest of the scene.

Warriors were still limping into camp from outside. Shadowgrove and Elkheart were dragging the dead rouge through the clearing. Whiteshade was directing Cherrynose and Brushfire to patch up the hole in the bramble barrier. Swiftwing was standing guard beside the blind rouge. All around, cats were licking their wounds. None were lying still or dead. Heronpaw let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding.

Petalpaw pulled away from him. Heronpaw looked down to meet her gaze. They said nothing. After a heartbeat Petalpaw padded away to meet a limping Stonepelt at the fern tunnel.

Heronpaw watched her go, then shook himself and limped over to where Hawkpaw and Morningpaw were sitting. Their tails were entwined. Neither looked seriously hurt, but Hawkpaw was staring at the body of the rouge as it disappeared through the fern tunnel. Even when the black tail slipped out of sight Hawkpaw kept staring.

Heronpaw plopped down beside his brother and laid his tail on the tabby’s side. The three apprentices sat there for a while and stared. Heronpaw took the time to look for his family and friends.

Ferntail and Falconstorm were together near the warrior’s den, licking each other’s wounds. Kestrelfeather was at Runningriver’s side. Hawkpaw was here next to him so he didn’t have to worry about that. He had seen Petalpaw and Frayclaw.

His eyes raked the clearing looking for black or cream fur.

“Heronpaw.”

Heronpaw looked up to see Kestrelfeather limping towards them. He had a nasty looking cut on his shoulder but otherwise looked unhurt.

Heronpaw stood up and padded over to greet his mentor. “Is Runningriver alright?”

Kestrelfeather looked over his shoulder at the nursery. “She’s fine.” He looked at Heronpaw and nodded. “Thanks to you, that is.”

Heronpaw shook his head. “They were handling it.” He said.

“Don’t be humble.” Kestrelfeather rolled his eyes.

“I learned it from the best.” Heronpaw snorted.

Kestrelfeather eyed him. “Watch it.” His green eyes sparkled with humor.

There was a moment of silence. Heronpaw took the time to smooth a patch of ruffled fur on his shoulder. Kestrelfeather made a show of looking around the clearing.

“Listen.” The warrior said after a bit. “You did really well today.”

Heronpaw started to shrug but then thought better. He _had_ done well today. He straightened his shoulders instead.

“You could’ve handled that ginger rouge on your own.” Kestrelfeather went on. “You didn’t need me.” He dropped his gaze to the side. “You haven’t for a while now.”

Heronpaw shuffled his paws. “That’s not true.” he protested.

Kestrelfeather shook his head. “When the queens called for help I turned to tell you to go, but you were already gone. You knew what to do before I did.”

Warmth crept into Heronpaw’s ears. “I didn’t think. I just went.”

“You followed your instincts to protect the Clan.” Kestrelfeather said firmly. “You’ve always done that.”

Heronpaw didn’t know what to say. He looked into his uncle’s eyes and saw a mixture of pride and sadness there.

“I’ve been proud to call you my apprentice, and I’m even prouder to call you my kin.” Kestrelfeather said earnestly.

Emotion stayed Heronpaw’s tongue, but he knew that his mentor understood. 

There was another short silence.

Kestrelfeather cleared his throat. “I have to see Plumleaf about this.” He said. He gestured to his shoulder. The warrior limped away, leaving Heronpaw warm throughout from praise. 


	36. Malady

Dawnheart was asleep. Or was he? It was dark and quiet. His body felt like it was floating. What a weird sensation. He expected this was what swimming felt like. He wouldn’t know.

Was he asleep? Did he just ask that question? He felt a tiny sense of urgency in his…somewhere. What did he need to do again?

He floated up to the surface of consciousness. His head broke the surface.

Pain. Panic.

His head throbbed. He gasped and tried to open his eyes. He found them to be slow to respond. He focused and managed to open them a slit. He couldn’t see anything. He breathed in. CedarClan scent. Snow. Stones. Trees. Okay, so he was in his territory.

He closed his eyes and thought back. He had been running, running fast. He had needed to say something. He remembered Frayclaw and fragments of conversation.

_Isn’t it obvious?_

Dawnheart shivered. Was that what he had been running from?

No. He didn’t want to run from that.

 _Rouges._ Another voice spoke in his memory.

Dawnheart’s eyes snapped open. The rouges. The attack. He had to warn Blizzardstar. He had to-

Something grabbed him by the scruff and began dragging him along the forest floor. Dawnheart tried to flail and fight but his limbs were slack and the pain in his head was making him dizzy.

Dawnheart couldn’t fight. That much was obvious. He opened his mouth and breathed in. A familiar scent hit his throat.

“Slatefoot?” he croaked.

There was only a grunt in reply.

“Slatefoot, where are you taking me?” Dawnheart groaned. He winced as his hips were dragged over a stone.

“Slatefoot, please-“

“Shut up.” Slatefoot hissed.

Dawnheart fell silent. Every passing moment he was becoming more lucid. The fog of pain was lifting and his mind began to race. He didn’t have time to think of anything, however, as, with a mighty heave and a grunt, Slatefoot hauled Dawnheart off the side of a small drop.

Dawnheart felt his stomach lurch as he fell for half a heartbeat. He landed with a painful _thump_ that sent a jarring pain echoing through his head. He gasped as his vision spun.

Slatefoot grasped Dawnheart’s scruff again and continued dragging.

After a few moments of tense silence Dawnheart began to hear voices over the sound of Slatefoot dragging him over the pebbles. Dawnheart twitched his ears, trying to make out what the voices were saying.

Slatefoot paused and bent his head down. He released Dawnheart’s scruff and leaned his mouth close to Dawnheart’s ear.

Dawnheart could barely breathe for fear. He closed his eyes and waited.

“Pretend to be unconscious.” There were ragged pauses between each of Slatefoot’s words.

Dawnheart stiffened. Slatefoot growled. Dawnheart relaxed instead. He focused all of his attention on keeping his body limp. It was harder than he had expected.

Slatefoot grunted in approval and grasped Dawnheart’s scruff in his mouth again. The gray warrior’s grip was firm, but his teeth didn’t pierce flesh. He continued to drag his captive along the bank.

Dawnheart’s mind whirled. His heart pounded against his chest, making him feel slightly sick. His head still hurt tremendously. Even if he wanted to move and fight he knew he couldn’t. He would just have to trust Slatefoot.

The thought made him feel even worse.

. . .

Crowfrost churned his paws against the cold pebbles. Songbird. The name tickled something at the back of his mind. It was so innocuous. He had been imagining something grander to match his StarClan mentor.

Songbird looked over each of the warriors. Pride shone in her eyes. “StarClan thanks each of you for your faith and loyalty.” She said in her glossy voice.

Crowfrost straightened his back under her praise. He saw Snakefeather and Scarletclaw do the same out of the corner of his eye.

“The time has come now for you to prove yourselves.” The gray she-cat continued. “StarClan’s plan is now in motion. Your part to play has come.”

Scarletclaw shivered with excitement. Crowfrost held himself steady. This is what he had been waiting for. He swallowed to force down the writhing anxiety in his stomach.

“You all saw what happened tonight. A wedge has been driven in the hearts of warriors.” Songbird made a vague gesture at the Greatrocks with her tail. “Your leaders have failed you.”

Crowfrost’s stomach lurched but he held his tongue.

“If I may,” Snakefeather ventured, “Aren’t we to blame for exposing them to you?”

Crowfrost flinched, ready for Songbird to lash out at the spotted warrior. Instead she made a tutting sound with her tongue as if she was quieting a wailing kit. Before she could respond, however, Scarletclaw rounded on the Alderclan warrior.

“Isn’t serving StarClan the nobler pursuit?” she demanded.

Songbird held up her tail for silence. Scarletclaw sat at attention once again. Snakefeather still didn’t look convinced.

“Scarletclaw is right. StarClan asked for your help for a reason.” The gray she-cat said. “Your leaders have failed you, yes, but your loyalty should not have wavered.”

Crowfrost felt cool relief smother his hot anxiety.

“This is a test for each and every cat. The clans are four for a reason. Cougarstar’s invitation cannot be accepted.” Songbird stamped a forepaw to punctuate her statement.

Crowfrost’s eyes wandered to Cranewing. He had been sitting silently the entire time. His half-closed eyes followed Songbird as she moved but otherwise he had been completely still. Crowfrost let his eyes fall back on Songbird. His belly flipped when he saw that she had been looking at him.

“Cranewing has sacrificed much in order to bring about StarClan’s plan.” She said. Her eyes narrowed. “He has a very different part to play.”

Crowfrost flattened his ears and dipped his head to show his humility.

Songbird seemed satisfied. She turned away from him and continued. “Your task going forward is simple. Watch your clanmates. Listen to their grievances. Feed the fire of discontent. Only then will their true colors be revealed.”

Crowfrost looked to his companions. Scarletclaw was nodding fervently. Snakefeather had one ear flattened in careful consideration. Crowfrost looked inward to his own thoughts.

Songbird had shown her wisdom in the past. She had kept her promises to him. If she said that this would strengthen CedarClan then it must be true. He thought of Petalpaw, returned to the clan safely. He thought of their victory against WillowClan. He steeled himself against his misgivings and cast them away.

His trust was in Songbird.

“I will visit you with further instructions.” Songbird was saying.

Crowfrost shook himself and refocused his attention.

“Go now, your clans need you.” With a wave of her tail Songbird dismissed them.

Scarletclaw jumped to her paws and bounded away without another word. Snakefeather rose to his paws with less urgency. His pale eyes flicked to Songbird and then to Crowfrost. The spotted tabby gave Crowfrost a tiny nod before he too bounded away. Crowfrost got to his slightly shaking paws.

“Wait.” Songbird held up her tail.

Crowfrost paused and sat down again, nervous.

Songbird turned to Cranewing and whispered something in the warrior’s ear. He nodded and got to his paws. Without so much as a glance in Crowfrost’s direction the black and gray tom turned and bounded across the shore towards WillowClan territory.

Songbird watched him go with unreadable green eyes. “Your clan will talk about Cranewing.” She said with a nod in the new deputy’s direction. “Do not believe what is said.”

Crowfrost blinked. He shoved away his questions. He nodded.

Songbird’s expression softened as she looked at him. She purred.

Her purr cut off as her eyes wandered past Crowfrost’s head. Her eyes widened slightly before narrowing to slits.

Crowfrost followed her gaze until he was turned almost completely around. Struggling along the shore towards him was Slatefoot. The warrior was hunched awkwardly with his head down near his front paws.

A creeping sense of foreboding skittered up Crowfrost’s spine as he watched Slatefoot drag something towards them.

Apprehension turned to horror as Crowfrost recognized the cream and brown pelt Slatefoot was gripping in his jaws. The scar on Slatefoot’s upper lip flashed white against his black muzzle as he strained to pull an unconscious Dawnheart across the stony shore.

The two remaining cats watched in silence as the dark tabby wrenched the limp warrior into their midst. He stopped a fox-length from Songbird’s paws and let Dawnheart’s scruff fall from his mouth. The pale warrior thumped to the ground. Crowfrost flinched.

Songbird stared down at Dawnheart’s body with an unreadable expression. After some tense moments of silence her green eyes flicked up to Slatefoot. The warrior was sitting, head bowed and motionless, at Dawnheart’s side.

Songbird cocked her head. “And you are?”

Slatefoot kept his head down. His eyes were stretched wide and unblinking. They stared at the ground without seeing as his pupils flexed. He was muttering something Crowfrost couldn’t make out.

“Speak up.” Songbird ordered. She lashed her tail once.

“I…I am.” Slatefoot mumbled.

“What?” Songbird flicked an ear in annoyance.

Crowfrost couldn’t take it anymore. “He’s my clanmate.” He burst out. He looked down at Dawnheart’s unmoving form. “They’re both my clanmates.”

Songbird’s fierce gaze snapped to him. Crowfrost held eye contact for a mere heartbeat before losing his nerve. He studied his paws instead.

“Ah, yes.” Songbird said after a moment. “Slatefoot, is it?”

Crowfrost nodded. Slatefoot continued to mumble.

Songbird stepped up to Dawnheart and regarded him. She leaned down and sniffed him. “He’s not dead.” She said flatly.

Crowfrost’s legs shook. He took a step towards his clanmate. “What happened, Slatefoot?” he said.

Slatefoot’s head jerked up and he looked at Crowfrost as if he had just realized the black warrior was even there. His jaw went slack and he stared, unblinking, at Crowfrost’s face. Crowfrost backed up a step.

“It was an accident.” Slatefoot gasped. Each word was strained and disjointed. “I saw him watching the gathering and then…” He looked down at his paws at Dawnheart’s body.

“He’s not dead.” Crowfrost repeated. “It was an accident.”

Slatefoot looked up at Crowfrost. His eyes brightened slightly but there was still deep fear and confusion there.

“Crowfrost, I think I’m going mad.” The dark tabby whispered suddenly. The words came smoothly and without the effort they had seemed to demand just moments ago.

Crowfrost watched his clanmate, unsure what to do. He looked up, ready to ask Songbird for direction.

She was gone.

The light had changed. There was no more rustling of undergrowth. He could see as well as feel the frost between his toes.

He was on his own.

Panic flared in his chest for a moment. He banished it with a deep breath and reason. Songbird trusted him. She must have decided that he was well prepared and didn’t need her. He would prove her right. He gave himself a shake.

“We need to get back to camp.” He said to Slatefoot.

Slatefoot stared at his clanmate before giving a short nod. The warrior looked exhausted. His fur was unkempt and his eyes were sunken. Something was wrong, but Crowfrost couldn’t begin to imagine what.

Together they hoisted Dawnheart’s limp body off of the ground and began the slow, awkward march back to the grove.

. . .

The sun was barely up by the time Crowfrost, Slatefoot, and their burden reached the camp. The journey had been slow, silent, and torturous. It hadn’t been long before Crowfrost caught the scent of rogues on the wind. Something had happened in their absence, but he couldn’t leave his clanmates to find out.

Fear, bitter and burning, rose in Crowfrost’s throat as he took in the scene just outside the fern tunnel. Ribbons of red smeared the ground amidst churned-up piles of dirt and snow. Flecks of fur and frozen blood dotted tree trunks and stones. The reek of rogues threatened to choke Crowfrost where he stood.

A concerned meow jolted Crowfrost from his thoughts. He looked around to see Petalpaw emerging from the dead ferns to his left. Her jaws were full of herbs and her green eyes were wide with worry and surprise. She hurried over to them and dropped her bundle at her paws.

“You’re back!” she cried. “Blizzardstar sent a patrol to look for you.” Her mew trailed off as her eyes fell on Dawnheart. She darted forward.

“Put him down.” She ordered.

Crowfrost obeyed. He lay Dawnheart’s top half onto a clear patch of ground. It took a moment but Slatefoot eventually did the same with Dawnheart’s back legs.

Petalpaw examined the unconscious warrior with quick precision. Her dainty white paws flew over Dawnheart’s flank and head. She leaned her ear close to his muzzle and fixed Crowfrost with an expectant stare.

Crowfrost shook himself and blinked. The thrill of being so close to her again made his fear and tiredness fade. If she was here then everything must be alright.

Before Crowfrost could open his mouth to tell the truth he was interrupted by Slatefoot’s gruff meow.

“We found him like this. He must have been attacked by a rogue.”

Crowfrost shot Slatefoot a sharp look. This was not the time to be lying. Dawnheart could very well wake and prove Slatefoot wrong, but as Crowfrost watched Slatefoot’s face he could see no lie. The confusion from before had vanished. Even his eyes seemed brighter and more alert. Slatefoot was convinced that he and Crowfrost had found Dawnheart like this.

Crowfrost barely had time to process what that could end up meaning for their story when another familiar shape burst from the dead undergrowth where Petalpaw had first appeared.

Crowfrost’s belly tightened as his eyes fell on Heronpaw. The apprentice had a thrush in his jaws and he skidded to a halt a few tail-lengths from where the others were standing. He flicked his ears in surprise.

Suspicion and anger twisted in Crowfrost’s belly. Why couldn’t Heronpaw just leave Petalpaw alone? He curled his claws into the frozen ground, ignoring the pain it caused.

Heronpaw glanced at Crowfrost. A familiar expression flashed across Heronpaw’s face before it faded and he looked away. Crowfrost’s whiskers twitched and he felt another nip of anger. His brother was _still_ looking at him like nothing had changed between them. Crowfrost wanted to snatch those memories away from this imposter.

“Good, you’re back, Heronpaw.” Petalpaw’s sweet voice splashed cool calm over the flames in Crowfrost’s throat and belly. “Fetch Plumleaf for me.”

Heronpaw nodded and dashed away without a word. Crowfrost watched him go, fighting the grief that threatened to overtake him every time he was forced to think about his brother’s sudden change. He steeled himself against what Songbird had called _distracting_ emotions. There was nothing he could do for Heronpaw right now.

He had another job to do. 


	37. Blind

“WillowClan is responsible for this!”

“Cougarstar is out of her mind!”

“What are we going to do, Blizzardstar?”

Heronpaw shifted his paws uneasily. The clan had gathered around and was arguing about what to do next. Blizzardstar was conferring with his senior warriors, but that had devolved into more shouting.

Dawnheart had finally awoken but he couldn’t remember anything. Plumleaf was determined that no cat bothered her patient. Frayclaw was at Dawnheart’s side regardless. Plumleaf and Petalpaw were tending to the wounded. Hawkpaw had somehow managed to get himself into the senior warrior’s circle and was arguing alongside Kestrelfeather.

Heronpaw wasn’t doing anything.

He didn’t know what to do. The revelations at the Gathering had left him confused, worried, and unsure. How was it that Falconstorm and Kestrelfeather’s lost brother was not only alive but the deputy of a rival clan? How did Cougarstar know the intimate secrets of every clan? Has she orchestrated the rouge attack?

Heronpaw’s head spun.

“We have one of them here. We should make him talk.” Brushfire’s angry words caught Heronpaw’s attention.

The senior warriors were splitting into two groups. One side, with Brushfire, Kestrelfeather, and Elkheart, looked angry. The other side just looked unsure. Whiteshade and Falconstorm were among the calmer group. Blizzardstar stood flanked by his deputy and Sweetsorrel. His expression was hard to read.

“What exactly are you suggesting?” Whiteshade growled. “Torture?”

“He’s suffered enough.” Shadowgrove said.

Heronpaw looked across the clearing to where Morningpaw was guarding the rouge who had been blinded by Honeyleaf’s kits. The scraggly black tom was curled in a tight bundle, shielding his scarred face from the mid-morning sunlight.

A group of warriors, Brushfire in the lead, marched over to the prisoner. Heronpaw’s belly lurched as he saw Kestrelfeather and Crowfrost among them.

Morningpaw took a step forward and blocked Brushfire’s way.

Brushfire’s brown eyes widened with anger. “Move.” She hissed.

Heronpaw got to his paws, nervous.

Morningpaw held her ground. She stared Brushfire in the face without a trace of fear or unease on her face. “I have orders from Blizzardstar.”

Brushfire tossed her head. She spun around and glared at her leader.

“This piece of filth tried to kill kits!” she snarled.

“He lost his eyes for it.” Swiftwing pointed out. His eyes were sparkling with pride.

Talonscore stepped up beside Brushfire and lashed his tail. “He should have lost his _life._ ”

Heronpaw skirted around the fresh-kill pile until he was at Hawkpaw’s side. Hawkpaw was bristling but he hadn’t joined Kestrelfeather and Brushfire in their attempt to retrieve the rouge. The brothers exchanged glances. 

“We have to know how the rouges found the camp.” Elkheart said, tearing up the frozen dirt with his claws.

Talonscore stepped forward. “Somecat was leading them.”

“He must know who.” Spat Slatefoot.

“What makes you think he’ll tell us?” Swiftwing shot back.

“We can’t torture him.” Ferntail protested. “He’s helpless.”

More arguments broke out at that.

Heronpaw turned to Hawkpaw. “What do you think?”

Hawkpaw kneaded his paws in the thin snow. “I don’t know.” His gray eyes flicked from Brushfire to Shadowgrove as they argued head to head.

Heronpaw didn’t know either. On one paw the rouge could have valuable answers. On the other…he glanced back at the wretched cat. His back oozed blood from several scratches he had left unattended. Heronpaw suppressed a shiver as he imagined what it must feel like for thorn-sharp claws to pierce a cat’s eyes.

“We should help him.” He said, louder than he had intended.

The eyes of every cat nearby turned to Heronpaw. He wilted under their gaze until he locked eyes with Ferntail. The pride in her face gave him courage. He straightened his shoulders a little.

“I agree with Heronpaw.” Every voice died away at the sound of Blizzardstar’s words. Each cat turned to face their leader. He stood at the far edge of the group. His dark blue eyes found Heronpaw and he nodded. Heronpaw felt pleased and nauseous simultaneously.

“Why should we help him?” Brushfire demanded. Her tail bushed out to twice its normal size as she rounded on Blizzardstar.

A few cats gasped at Brushfire’s brazen disrespect. Blizzardstar’s gaze hardened. He strode up to Brushfire. The ginger she-cat held her ground.

“We have shown nothing but weakness this past moon.” Brushfire continued. Her eyes flashed with pent-up frustration-turned-fury. “We have taken offense after offense from WillowClan and done nothing. We had to rely on outside help to cure the greencough, we had no idea the rouges were coming, and now you are suggesting we take in a cat who tried to murder our young?”

A few murmurs of reluctant agreement rippled through the crowd. Cats were looking at their paws, shoulders sinking. Even Kestrelfeather deflated slightly. Heronpaw’s belly squirmed.

Blizzardstar looked around at his clan. “Do you all feel this way?” he said. There was no anger in his voice.

Brushfire squared her shoulders and continued to glare. Her companions, however, didn’t look as sure. Elkheart shuffled his paws and looked away. Kestrelfeather swung his tail back and forth. A few others made similar non-committal gestures.

Blizzardstar looked around. His gaze lingered on each cat in turn. Heronpaw shivered as dark blue eyes regarded him for a heartbeat.

“I am sorry,” Blizzardstar finally said. “For letting you down. I was doing what I thought was right. I have made mistakes, but you all have made up for my short-comings.”

Brushfire met Blizzardstar’s gaze for a moment before shrinking slightly and dropping her eyes to her paws.

“Without your strength I would be nothing.” Blizzardstar continued. He padded among his warriors. Heronpaw watched him, breathless.

“I commend your sacrifice and your nobility. You have achieved much despite my failings. You drove WillowClan from our borders. You have beaten the rouge force twice now. You banded together and protected one another from this early leaf-bare.”

The great white cat had walked the length of the group of cats now and had turned to face them all once more. The sun shone above the trees behind his head.

“The CedarClan I know,” Blizzardstar boomed, “Is strong, noble, and fearsome, but,” His heavy voice fell from the height it had slowly been climbing to. His next words were soft. “There is strength in mercy. There is nobility in patience. There is ferocity in peace.”

Heronpaw’s pelt tingled with the effect of Blizzardstar’s words. Every cat was motionless.

Blizzardstar nodded to Brushfire. “I understand your desire. I share it.”

Brushfire swished her tail through the still air. “We need answers, Blizzardstar.” The anger had melted from her voice.

Blizzardstar nodded. “I agree.” He turned to Hawkpaw and gestured with his tail towards the medicine den. “Fetch Plumleaf.”

Hawkpaw jumped slightly and bounded away.

A strained silence hung over the warriors as they waited for Plumleaf. It wasn’t long before she emerged from the medicine den. Her mouth was stuffed with herbs. Without a word to anycat she bustled past the gathered clan and to the rouge’s side. With soft paws she began murmuring to the miserable lump. Eventually she coaxed his paws away from his face.

Heronpaw’s stomach clenched. In place of where the rouge’s eyes had been was a crisscross of torn and bloody flesh. Wetness dribbled from both sockets. As Plumleaf’s gentle paws brushed herb pulp onto the very edge of the wounds the rouge made a choked, agonizing wail.

Several cats in the crowd made noises of revulsion. Even Brushfire took a step back. Heronpaw had to look away.

Blizzardstar watched Plumleaf work with a solemn look on his face.

The cats of CedarClan exchanged glances in silent agreement.

This cat had suffered enough.

. . .

. . .  
With a sigh, Heronpaw dropped his catch onto the fresh-kill pile. Hunting had been slow-going. The commotion of a battle and subsequent flight of the rouges had driven much of the prey into their burrows. Heronpaw counted himself as lucky to have found these two mice.   
The day had gone by in a solemn haze. Plumleaf had moved the rouge into her den and was treating him there. His intermittent wails of fear and agony hadn’t stopped since.   
Despite their wounds and exhaustion, the cats of CedarClan had gone about repairing the camp and filling the fresh-kill pile. They made plenty of time to mutter about the events of the gathering as well. All over camp one could hear the same name.   
Cranewing.   
Where had he been all this time? Why and how had he become the deputy of a rival Clan? Was he responsible for that disappearance all those moons ago?   
Every cat walked on thistles around Falconstorm in particular. The dark tabby went about his duties as if nothing had happened.   
Heronpaw couldn’t help but wonder what was going on inside his father’s head. The look that had frozen on Falconstorm’s face when he had laid eyes on Cranewing still burned in Heronpaw’s mind. There had been so many emotions, complex and full, in that expression. How was he coping now?  
Heronpaw had little time to wonder. Hunting had been his priority most of the day. A run in the forest had given him an opportunity to stretch his aching shoulder and ample time to think. He had hoped to run into Snowbreeze but he had no such luck. Even so, he had come back to camp with an idea of what was going on. All he needed was confirmation from the rouge. 

He and the other apprentices ate their evening meal in silence. They took turns watching Blizzardstar’s den and the entrance to the medicine clearing. It had been a while since the rouge’s last cry.

The sun had set by the time Petalpaw scurried from the medicine den and bounded along the edge of the clearing to Blizzardstar’s den.

Heronpaw perked up and blinked away the tiredness in his eyes. He nudged Hawkpaw who was snoring gently beside him.

The cats who had stayed up were lifting their heads and twitching their ears. Cherrynose ducked her head into the warrior’s den. A few moments later Stonepelt, Cloudspots, and Ferntail emerged. Swiftwing disappeared into the nursery and returned a moment later with Honeyleaf and Runningriver. Even the elders were waiting, bright eyed, at the entrance to their den.

Blizzardstar appeared at the end of his hollow log den. He strode towards the medicine den, Petalpaw and Whiteshade trailing him. They disappeared behind the lichen painted rocks.

Heronpaw nudged Hawkpaw again. Hawkpaw grunted and jerked awake. Morningpaw sat still, her eyes fixed on the medicine den.

The moon had moved a paw-width before Blizzardstar returned. By the time he had crossed the clearing and reached his perch on the Highbranch the whole clan had gathered. No cat bothered sitting. They stood and awaited the news.

Heronpaw took a spot between Ferntail and Hawkpaw and trained his eyes on his leader.

Blizzardstar settled himself onto his branch and looked over his clan. “Our prisoner, Spider, has named his leader.” He began.

A ripple of tense excitement passed through the waiting cats.

Blizzardstar paused and looked down at his paws. “The cat who has been leading the rouges is Cranewing.”

Shocked silence met his words. Heronpaw gripped the ground with his claws. His suspicions had been confirmed.

“Is that all he knows?” Elkheart called, breaking the silence.

Blizzardstar nodded solemnly. “He gave me the name willingly. I do not believe he is hiding anything else.”

Heronpaw’s pelt itched. He needed to tell someone what he knew. If he was right then there wasn’t much time. He nudged Hawkpaw. The tabby apprentice shot him a sideways glance.

“We need to make a move.” Shadowgrove said gruffly.

Blizzardstar nodded. “We will discuss that in a moment, first I need to take care of something long overdue.”

Only half-paying attention, Heronpaw hardly reacted when he heard Blizzardstar call his name along with Hawkpaw and Morningpaw’s. Heronpaw’s ears flicked and he blinked stupidly at his leader.

Ferntail whirled around and stared at her sons with shining green eyes. Heronpaw stared back, confused.

His exhausted, worried, confused mind finally worked out what just happened.

Heronpaw watched, dumb, as the clan parted around him. Kestrelfeather was watching him, his chest puffed out with pride. Every eye was turned to the three apprentices.

Hawkpaw straightened his shoulders and began to stride towards Blizzardstar. Morningpaw flanked the tabby apprentice. Their tails were entwined. Heronpaw watched them walk away from him.

“Go ahead.” Ferntail murmured with a gentle nudge to his side. Heronpaw blinked and forced his paws to start moving.

Was this really about to happen? He had been so focused on the mystery of Snowbreeze and her warnings that he had completely forgotten about becoming a warrior at all.

Without telling them to, his paws carried him up to the front of the clan. He came to a rigid halt at Hawkpaw’s side. Blizzardstar dropped down from his perch and padded up to the apprentices.

“Today you three have proved beyond a doubt…” Blizzardstar’s speech faded into the back of Heronpaw’s attention as movement to his right caught his eye. He turned his head slightly and saw Falconstorm sitting just a tail-length away.

The dark tabby warrior was watching Heronpaw with discerning gray eyes. For a moment Heronpaw froze like he had done every time those eyes fell on him for his whole life. He relaxed, however, as he saw something new in his father’s face.

Pride.

It was twisted, slightly off, but it was there. Falconstorm was looking at Heronpaw with pride.

“Morningpaw, Hawkpaw, Heronpaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend your Clan, even at the cost of your life?”

Heronpaw was shocked back into listening to the ceremony. He had almost missed the entire thing. A strange emotion was wriggling about in his belly. It was soon squashed by the rush of pride, excitement, and awe that Blizzardstar’s question brought.

“I do.” All three apprentices said at once. Heronpaw glanced at his denmates. Morningpaw was standing tall under Blizzardstar’s gaze. She had grown strong and fearless. Beside her Hawkpaw held himself differently. The boasting, clumsy, argumentative young cat was gone. A new cat, brave, loyal, and trustworthy stood in his place.

Heronpaw couldn’t help but feel glowing pride for his denmates.

“Then by the powers of StarClan I give you your warrior names. Morningpaw, from this moment on you will be known as Morningsong. StarClan honors your courage and endurance and we welcome you as a full member of CedarClan.”

A shiver ran across Morningsong’s pelt as Blizzardstar touched his nose to her forehead. Shaking, she licked his shoulder. Blizzardstar backed away and looked at his daughter, his face glowing with joy and pride.

He lingered on Morningsong for another heartbeat before moving on to Hawkpaw. Hawkpaw raised his head and looked Blizzardstar in the eye.

“Hawkpaw, from this moment on you will be known as Hawkstrike. StarClan honors your loyalty and enthusiasm and we welcome you as a full member of CedarClan.”

Hawkstrike bowed his head to let Blizzardstar touch him. He gave his leader’s shoulder a respectful lick and backed away. His paws were shaking with repressed excitement. Heronpaw’s heart swelled for his brother.

In a heartbeat Blizzardstar was standing before Heronpaw. The huge white tom looked Heronpaw in the eyes. Heronpaw could hardly find his next breath.

“Heronpaw, from this moment on you will be known as Heronflight. StarClan honors your sacrifice and your careful thinking and we welcome you as a full member of CedarClan.”


	38. Cry (Edited: please read. Edited parts are in bold)

The thrill of hearing his warrior name for the first time was lost in a surge of terror and confusion that gripped Heronflight by the throat. He choked and blinked against Blizzardstar’s white shoulder fur. A different pale shape shone before Heronflight’s slightly blurred vision.

Snowbreeze’s green eyes flashed with intensity. A voice rang out inside of Heronflight’s head, _her_ voice, echoing with grave purpose.

_Help them!_

Heronflight backed away from Blizzardstar and stumbled. A wave of noise crashed into his ears. The Clan was calling his name just as he had dreamed they would. This was not how he had imagined it would feel.

All around him Heronflight could hear his Clanmate’s repeating the names of the new warriors. A different voice, high pitched and terrified, pierced through the chanting. Heronflight snapped his eyes onto the source of the cry.

A blood-soaked white cat stood at the mouth of the fern tunnel, illuminated in a splash of moonlight. Its wild amber eyes shone with exhaustion and shock. Its mouth was stretched wide in a desperate wail.

For a moment Heronflight thought that it was another vision. Then he recognized the young tom’s black paws and ears.

The noise around Heronflight died down as cats began to notice what was happening. Triumphant yowls faded into confused mutters.

Heronflight was at Coalpaw’s side in two heart beats.

The young AlderClan apprentice stared up at Heronflight. His white fur was plastered with blood. There was no way to tell if it was his own or somecat else’s.

“We’re being attacked!” Coalpaw gasped. His breath came in sharp gasps. His black paws were shaking. “You have to help!”

Heronflight whirled around. Whiteshade and Blizzardstar were just behind him. From the looks on their faces they had heard what Coalpaw said.

Heronflight looked to his leader. Blizzardstar shared a glance with his deputy.

Whiteshade shook his head. “AlderClan is too far. We’d never make it in time.” He said in a low voice.

Dark regret fell over Blizzardstar’s face.

Heronflight’s belly clenched. “We can try, can’t we?”

“They trapped us in camp.” Coalpaw choked out. “I escaped. Please, you have to come.”

Blizzardstar regarded the bloodied AlderClan cat for a moment before nodding firmly. He swung his great head around and called out to his Clan.

“AlderClan needs our help!” He boomed.

The cloud of shock began to melt away. Hawkstrike and Morningsong jumped to their paws, ready. Kestrelfeather and Swiftwing joined them. Others began rising to their paws. The glint of battle sparked in every eye.

“Whiteshade.” Blizzardstar turned to his deputy. “Gather a battle patrol.”

Whiteshade nodded and leapt into the center of the gathered cats. Immediately they surged to him, ready to be called upon.

Blizzardstar faced the terrified Coalpaw. “I need details, son.” He rumbled. His tone had softened considerably.

Coalpaw shot Blizzardstar a wide-eyed look and shuffled closer to Heronflight’s side. The young tom looked up at Heronflight. Heronflight nodded.

“WillowClan.” Coalpaw said. His voice shook along with his body. “And rogues.”

“How many?” Blizzardstar coaxed.

Coalpaw blinked for the first time since he arrived. “Too many.”

Blizzardstar and Heronflight shared a glance.

“Out of the way. He’s in shock.” Plumleaf growled from behind them. She pushed Heronflight aside and crouched at Coalpaw’s flank. Her mew turned low and comforting. She even chirruped a few times as she nosed Coalpaw’s flank. Coalpaw flinched at her touch at first but eventually relaxed.

“I need to ask him one more question.” Blizzardstar said. He stood his ground as Plumleaf shot him a withering look. She snorted, shrugged, and went back to her work.

“Make it quick.” She snapped.

Blizzardstar caught Coalpaw’s eye. “How did you find our camp?”

Coalpaw blinked. “The white cat showed me.”

Heronflight’s belly lurched.

Plumleaf led the poor thing away with her fluffy tail draped protectively over his shoulders. A set of small, bloody paw-prints followed in their wake.

Heronflight watched them go. He felt numb. It felt so strange that the AlderClan apprentice had been dragged into this. The danger had seemed so far away from that mountainside.

Close by, the rest of the clan was coming to a decision.

“Falconstorm, Shadowgrove, Kestrelfeather, Crowfrost, Hawkstrike, Morningsong, Brushfire, and Cherrynose will come with me.” Whiteshade was saying.

Blizzardstar nodded his approval. “Elkheart, I am putting the camp’s safety in your paws.”

Elkheart nodded and gathered the remaining warriors to him with a sweep of his brown tail. The cats who had been called grouped together near Whiteshade.

Heronflight’s paws carried him to the deputy’s side.

“I want to go.” He said.

Whiteshade eyed him. “I thought your shoulder was injured again.”

Heronflight stretched his sore shoulder and shook his head. “It’s fine.”

Whiteshade opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted.

“He’s fine, Whiteshade.” Petalpaw had appeared beside the deputy with several large bundles of herbs at her paws. She glanced at Heronflight. “Besides, I need somecat to help me with these.”

Whiteshade hesitated. His shoulders sank in a shrug. “Alright then.” He moved away.

Heronflight stared to speak but Petalpaw cut him off. “Dawnheart needs to tell you something before you go.”

Heronflight paused, surprised. Around him his fellow warriors were readying themselves to leave. Petalpaw’s eyes flashed silver in the moonlight. “Hurry!” she hissed.

Heronflight jumped into a run. In moments he was at the mouth of the medicine den. Just inside he could see Plumleaf settling a ragged looking Coalpaw into a nest. Dawnheart was lying a few nests over. Frayclaw was sitting beside him.

Heronflight hurried by Plumleaf, hoping she was distracted enough not to notice him.

Dawnheart straightened up as he caught sight of Heronflight hurrying over.

“Petalpaw sent me.” Heronflight muttered once he was close enough.

Dawnheart nodded. “There’s something you need to know about Crowfrost.”

Heronflight’s heart skipped a painful beat.

Dawnheart’s blue eyes shone as he looked up at Heronflight. Fear lingered in their depths.

“He’s being influenced by something.” Dawnheart paused and shivered. “Some _one_.”

“What do you mean?” The words came out sharper than Heronflight had intended. Frayclaw showed a fang and he backtracked. “What happened?” he said more softly.

Dawnheart shook his head. “Slatefoot found me while I was unconscious. He dragged me out onto the beach. Crowfrost was there. He was talking to someone.”

Frayclaw gave Dawnheart a lick around the ear. A deep, comforting purr rumbled in the gray warrior’s chest. Dawnheart leaned into Frayclaw slightly and continued.

“She said not to believe what the Clan says about Cranewing. She seemed to know Slatefoot too, and he was afraid of her.” Dawnheart closed his eyes. He curled his body into a tighter ball.

“I don’t know how to explain it, Heronflight, but there was something _wrong_.”

Heronflight knew exactly what his friend was talking about. His suspicions had been correct. Whatever force Snowbreeze had warned him about was in contact with his brother. Crowfrost was the traitor.

“There’s something else.” Dawnheart opened his eyes and lifted his head. He fixed Heronflight with a piercing stare. “Is Slatefoot going to AlderClan?”

Heronflight tried to remember who was called. Before he could answer, Dawnheart continued anyway.

**“Don’t trust him.” Dawnheart glanced at Frayclaw, a look of uncertainty in his eyes. “He’s the one who attacked me."**

**Frayclaw’s eyes widened. “ _What?!”_ he choked out.**

**Dawnheart didn’t acknowledge Frayclaw’s outburst. He continued to look Heronflight in the eyes. “Just be careful around him.”**

Confused, Heronflight opened his mouth to respond but was interrupted.

“Aren’t you supposed to be somewhere other than here?” Plumleaf demanded. Heronflight jumped and spun to face the testy medicine cat. She lashed her plumy tail and glared at him.

In that moment, the foolishness of not telling Plumleaf about his visions hit Heronflight like a blow from a warrior twice his size.

The annoyed look in her eyes faded as she searched his face.

“CedarClan, move out!” Blizzardstar’s call to leave was muffled.

Heronflight stared into Plumleaf’s eyes. Panic started to fill his chest. Why hadn’t he come to her with this before? He had thought that he knew what to do; now he was sure that he knew nothing. Something bigger than he could ever hope to understand was going on. The weight of his realization began to crush his chest. He gasped for breath.

Plumleaf flicked her ear and nodded. “Tell Petalpaw.” She said. She slipped to his side and whisked her tail at his back legs, forcing him to move.

“What?” Heronflight stammered.

“Tell. Petalpaw.” Plumleaf repeated as she swept him forward. “Don’t do this alone.”

Heronflight opened his mouth but nothing came out. With a final shove from Plumleaf, Heronflight stumbled through the medicine clearing’s exit. He found his footing and looked back.

Plumleaf was already bustling away.

Suddenly steeled by her words, Heronflight moved. He hurried across the clearing. Ferntail wished him luck as he passed. He waved his tail to let her know he heard. He reached the entrance just as the last of the battle patrol was disappearing through it. Petalpaw was waiting for him. With a nod to her, Heronflight scooped up a bundle of herbs. Petalpaw did the same.

Together they slid through the bracken tunnel and out into the night.

. . .

**Dawnheart watched Plumleaf steer Heronflight out of the clearing. His paws itched to go after him, to do _something_ to help, but he was stuck here. He bit back a sigh of frustration.**

**Beside him, Frayclaw stood up and started away.**

**“Where are you going?” Dawnheart asked, startled.**

**Frayclaw paused and looked over his shoulder. His eyes were cold. “To tell somecat about Slatefoot.”**

**Dawnheart’s belly lurched. “You don’t need to.”**

**Frayclaw blinked and turned around completely. “He attacked you. He’s been threatening you.”**

**“I know, but I don’t think he’s a danger to anyone else.” Dawnheart said honestly.**

**Frayclaw lashed his tail. “He _attacked_ you!” he hissed. He shook his head and began to pace, tail still lashing.**

**“Frayclaw…”**

**“Why won’t you stand up for yourself?” Frayclaw demanded suddenly.**

**Dawnheart blinked, taken aback. Frayclaw stopped his agitated pacing and whirled to face his denmate. His gray eyes were wide with anger.**

**“Do you want them to be right? Do you want to be seen as a coward? Do you think you don’t belong here?" The questions came too fast for Dawnheart to respond. He waited, shocked, for Frayclaw to fall silent again. The gray warrior set his jaw as he finished and breathed heavily through his nose.**

**Tentative, Dawnheart spoke. “I believe that I belong here. I came back, didn’t I?”**

**Frayclaw snorted and turned away. “Yet you let them treat you like an outsider.” His voice had lost its angry edge. Dawnheart wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or not.**

**“I can’t control what they do.” He said. He reached out with his tail and drew it along Frayclaw’s side. Frayclaw’s ear twitched but he didn’t say anything.**

**Dawnheart continued. “But I can control what I do, and I came back despite being afraid. I made the choice to come back.”**

**Frayclaw looked up and met Dawnheart’s eyes.**

**“I admit,” Dawnheart murmured, “That I didn’t want to at first but-“**

**“Wait, _what?_ ” Frayclaw interjected. His eyes widened and his voice turned harsh. “You weren’t going to come back?”**

**Slightly panicked, Dawnheart shook his head. “I considered it in a moment of weakness.” He said quickly.**

**Frayclaw pulled away from Dawnheart’s touch. “You _considered_ it?”**

**Dawnheart’s belly clenched. He had never heard Frayclaw sound like this, like he was disgusted.**

**“Yes, but then my mother-“**

**“Your _mother_?” Frayclaw drew his lips back over his fangs. Dismayed, Dawnheart lowered himself into his nest.**

**“Jasmine, my mother.” He stammered.**

**“What about Lilypool and Spottedfur?” Frayclaw demanded with an aggressive lash of his tail.**

**Dawnheart swallowed his distress and tried to get Frayclaw to look at him again. “They were _all_ my mothers.”**

**Frayclaw shook his head. “No, no _Lilypool_ suckled you. _Spottedfur_ raised you.” He raised his gaze to meet Dawnheart’s. There was harsh, stark grief in his eyes. “That cat _abandoned_ you.”**

**A shard of ice pierced Dawnheart’s chest. “She gave me up for my own good!” he cried, desperate for Frayclaw to understand. “She knew I belonged with CedarClan.”**

**Frayclaw rounded on Dawnheart. “ _Do_ you?” he spat. “You weren’t going to come back!”**

**Frayclaw’s words made Dawnheart’s voice wither like a flower petal against the winds of a Leaf-bare storm. A stabbing pain had formed in his throat. He couldn’t make the words come out. He just stared at Frayclaw and fell deeper into despair.**

**Frayclaw backed away from Dawnheart’s nest. His ears had flattened to the side of his head and his eyes were wide with anguish.**

**“I’ve lost _everything,_ ” He choked. He looked up at Dawnheart’s face. “And you were going to make me lose you too?”**

**The dam in Dawnheart’s throat burst. “Frayclaw,” he pleaded.**

**Frayclaw’s eyes became unfocused. He shook his head and took another step away. “No.” He seemed to be willing the truth out of existence with the single word. “No, I need to go help defend the camp.”**

**The gray warrior whipped around and darted out of the clearing. Dawnheart cried after him and tried to heave himself out of his nest, but a sharp pain behind his eyes sent a wave of nausea that forced him to stay where he was. He watched, completely helpless, as Frayclaw disappeared from his view.**

. . .

Blood pounded in Crowfrost’s ears as he ran with the battle patrol. His paws still felt unsteady beneath him.

_Breathe._ He told himself. _The rouge didn’t know anything important._

He fixed his eyes on Shadowgrove’s black and white form just ahead of him and slowed his breathing. He had barely managed to keep his anxiety under control as he threw himself into his duties earlier that day.

He remembered the unbridled terror of waiting for Blizzardstar to tell the Clan what the rouge knew. His belly clenched painfully. He shook himself. He hadn’t been exposed. Songbird hadn’t been exposed. StarClan’s plan was still safe.

There was the small issue of Cranewing, though.

The whole Clan had been muttering all day about the reappearance. Crowfrost had tried to ignore them as Songbird had instructed, but words kept jumping out at him.

“Death”, “traitor”, “Falconstorm.”

What did the Clan think Cranewing had done? Part of him desperately wanted to know. The other part knew that wasn’t what Songbird wanted for him.

Crowfrost was forced out of his thoughts as the patrol slowed. They had just entered WillowClan territory. The patrol drew closer together at a signal from Blizzardstar. Crowfrost purposefully allowed himself to be shifted to the very edge of the patrol. He wasn’t keen on feeling crowded at the moment.

As the patrol fell into new formation, Falconstorm appeared at Crowfrost’s side. The dark tabby cast a glance at his son. Crowfrost tried his best to ignore him. He was content with silence. Falconstorm opened his mouth and closed it. It seemed that he still hadn’t figured out how to talk to his sons.

Crowfrost shrugged and ducked under a low-hanging tree branch. He didn’t need Falconstorm. He had StarClan on his side. As long as Songbird had faith in him he knew he could do anything.

He just had to trust her completely.

. . .

“Crowfrost?” Petalpaw’s eyes widened with distress.

Heronflight nodded and ducked under an approaching branch.

The patrol was making their way through WillowClan territory. Blizzardstar had decided that taking the fastest route was more important than risking an early run in with WillowClan. Heronflight and Petalpaw brought up the rear of the company. Hawkstrike and Morningsong ran just in front of them. Petalpaw’s herb wraps were safely grasped in the new warriors’ teeth.

Petalpaw shook her head and stared through the ranks of CedarClan warriors. “Has he really changed that much?” Her voice was small and full of guilt.

Heronflight’s paws grew heavier as they raced through WillowClan’s forest.

“It isn’t his fault.” He said. He wondered if his statement was meant to convince Petalpaw or himself.

“This is why Cougarstar knew so much about Clan business. Crowfrost must have been meeting with Cranewing.” Petalpaw dropped her gaze to her paws. Her fur fluffed up a little. “We should tell Blizzardstar.”

Heronflight’s heart sank and his belly twitched with unease. “How?” How could they possibly explain everything in time?

Petalpaw clamped her jaws shut. She seemed to have realized the problem as well. There was too much to tell. Too little time.

“I’ll keep an eye on Crowfrost.” Heronflight said. He readied himself for Petalpaw to argue but she didn’t. Instead she locked eyes with him for a heightened moment as they leapt over a fallen tree in unison.

It felt like moons since they had last been in this forest together. Everything had seemed simpler then.

Heronflight watched Petalpaw’s tabby-and-white coat flash in and out of the moonlight. Her green eyes were narrow with focus. She was so strong. So beautiful.

“Petalpaw…” Heronflight was cut off as the cats in front of him slowed their pace. He forced his attention to the front of the patrol where Blizzardstar had given the signal to stop.

Heronflight looked around. The place was slightly familiar. They were near the AlderClan border.

Blizzardstar curled and un-curled his tail once. _Silence_. He flicked the tip three times. _Ready for battle._

Hawkstrike and Morningsong slipped silently to Petalpaw’s side and dropped their herbs. Petalpaw gave them a nod of thanks and they returned to their place in line.

Heronflight caught Petalpaw’s eye one more time. She held his gaze without blinking. Heronflight wanted to assure her that they would meet once the battle was over, that they would figure this out together, but there wasn’t time. There weren’t words. There was only this shared look. He hoped it was enough.

Ahead, Blizzardstar gave the signal to move.

. . .

Dawnheart lay, too restless and distressed to sleep, in his nest in the medicine clearing. The pain in his head had lessened to a dull thump, but his worries had risen to a relentless pounding. Frayclaw had not come back. So Dawnheart lay alone, listening to the AlderClan apprentice’s snores and the occasional whimper from the eyeless rouge.

Things were out of Dawnheart’s paws now. He just had to trust in StarClan and wait. **Frayclaw would come around. He just felt betrayed. He would come to understand. Hopefully**.

The shadow of the rocky overhang above his head did little to give him any sense of comfort. A stray, dead leaf tumbled across the darkened medicine clearing and landed in the little frozen brook. Dawnheart watched it skid across the ice.

Movement in the corner of his vision caught his attention. He looked up, confused. His confusion turned to horror as he saw two green eyes peering at him from across the stream. They winked out as whoever was watching him turned away.

A sinking feeling in his belly told him he knew exactly who those green eyes belonged to. He was proven right as Slatefoot emerged from the shadows on the other side of the clearing.

Dawnheart stiffened in his nest. Slatefoot stood, unmoving, half-obscured by the darkness.

Why was he here? A dozen reasons sped through Dawnheart’s mind. Was this the real Slatefoot or whatever else had shadowed the warrior’s steps lately?

Shaking slightly, Dawnheart peered into his Clanmate’s eyes. They were wide and unblinking. The pupils were slits. Icy claws of fear gripped Dawnheart once more.

“Forgive me.”

It took a moment for Dawnheart to realize that Slatefoot had indeed said those words.

The pale warrior swallowed hard. “What?”

Slatefoot blinked once. “This isn’t what I wanted.” He murmured.

Dawnheart stiffened. “What do you mean?” He asked slowly. He didn’t know if he wanted to hear the answer.

Slatefoot shook his head. “He was so much like me. I thought he would understand.”

Dawnheart was utterly bewildered. “I-“

“I never meant to twist him like she twisted me.” Slatefoot cut him off. His voice was tight with guilt and sorrow. The dark warrior paused and dropped his gaze to the ground. 

There was a moment of tense silence during which Dawnheart considered calling out for help. Curiosity and pity stayed his tongue. Was this Slatefoot apologizing for his treatment of Dawnheart?

Slatefoot’s head snapped back up. Dawnheart jumped.

The gray warrior’s pupils had rounded once more. The vulnerability in his posture shifted to stiff determination.

Dawnheart slid his claws out. Green eyes met blue.

“I have to stop her.” Slatefoot growled.

Dawnheart raised his head a little. “Who?” His mind raced.

Slatefoot didn’t seem to have heard the question. “I have to stop her from taking anyone else.” He continued. He looked past Dawnheart’s shoulder and narrowed his eyes at something that wasn’t there. 

Dawnheart’s pulse quickened and he sat up. “Do you mean that cat that was talking to Crowfrost?”

Slatefoot’s ears twitched and he lifted his scarred lip in a half-snarl.

Dawnheart fought the worsening pain in his head and pushed himself to all four paws. “We can tell Plumleaf or Blizzardstar.” He offered. “You can get their help.”

Slatefoot shook his head as Dawnheart spoke.

“You can’t go after her alone.” Dawnheart took a step forward out of his nest.

Slatefoot thrashed his head back and forth and backed away. “No one else.” He hissed.

Dawnheart stopped advancing. He didn’t want to scare Slatefoot away this time.

Slatefoot turned his head away from Dawnheart and fell still except his nervously flicking tail. Dawnheart clenched his jaw, frustrated. What could he say to get through to the disturbed warrior?

Rustling from the medicine clearing entrance caused Slatefoot to snap his head around. Plumleaf’s voice announced her imminent arrival.

Dawnheart cursed and took a few steps towards Slatefoot. The gray warrior cast Dawnheart one last conflicted look before turning and fleeing into the closely-knit trees. The darkness swallowed him up in less than a heartbeat.

Dawnheart stared after the vanished warrior. Fear and uncertainty pricked at his paws. He ignored Plumleaf as she entered the clearing and asked him what in StarClan’s name he thought he was doing up and about.

He let the grumpy medicine cat shuffle him back to his nest without complaint. He considered telling her where Slatefoot had gone, but something about the last look the gray warrior had given him gave Dawnheart pause.

_Let me do this._ It had said.

Dawnheart settled back into his nest and watched the place where Slatefoot had disappeared.

Now was the time for trust.


	39. Hidden

Hey readers, I'd like to start off by saying sorry for the long break. I recently moved 2,000 miles away from my family and have been having a hard time with my mental health. I'm finally feeling like myself again and that means I've been writing. I hope I still have some fans and that you can forgive me. I hope that you enjoy this chapter. Be sure to let me know! <3

. . .

The moon shone its full light down into the AlderClan camp. A thick pelt of silence pressed down on every ear. Tension kept every paw in place. Eyes, wide with apprehension, shone with reflected moonlight from behind rocks and inside crevices.

A distant screech split the air. Muscles clenched and pelts stood on end. A large cat, whose golden pelt was tinged silver in the moonlight, rose to unsteady paws. The smaller figure at his side made a sound of protest. The larger cat held up his tail for silence.

The sounds of a cat in distress grew louder and more desperate.

A terrified gasp broke the silence inside of camp. “They’ve been caught!”

“Hush, Quietsong.” Another voice comforted the distressed queen.

The golden tom stepped out into the direct light of the moon. His eyes were fixed on a break in the rocky walls that surrounded the camp. The patch of white cobweb on his shoulder bled red as he strained. The smaller cat at his side bit back an exasperated sigh.

The commotion died away suddenly. The last screech echoed against the walls of the camp and faded into the air. The cats of AlderClan held their breath.

A figure appeared at the peak of the rock-fall. It pulled itself over the stones with great effort and half-slid, half-tumbled down the short slope onto the camp floor. The large golden tom strode across the stony ground to the newcomer’s side. His smaller companion followed. Several other cats crept out from their hiding places to join them.

“It’s Mossfoot.” Someone said in a harried whisper.

“Finchfoot.” The large tom said, nodding to his companion. The medicine cat was already hurrying ahead of his leader, a bundle of leaves in his jaws.

Finchfoot reached the fallen warrior’s side and began examining his tabby pelt. It was stained with dirt and blood. His right ear was dangling by a hair’s width of skin and his flank was torn in several places. Sluggish blood seeped out onto the ground around the medicine cat’s paws.

“Mossfoot can you hear me?” Finchfoot said as he worked. His white paws were already stained with blood. “I need you to look at me, Mossfoot.”

The injured warrior opened one bleary eye. “Eaglestar…” his voice was weak.

The large tom leaned down and looked Mossfoot in the eye. “I’m here.” He said in his deep voice.

Mossfoot opened his jaws and coughed out a mouthful of blood. He closed his eyes and struggled with breath for a moment.

“Don’t try to talk.” Finchfoot instructed, his tone considerably softer.

Mossfoot gave a tiny shake of his head. “They killed…Daisyspring…” he wheezed.

A gasp rippled through the gathered cats. Muted wails of grief and shock were hushed as soon as they were uttered.

A black warrior shouldered his way to the front of the crowd. “And Coalpaw?” he demanded.

Mossfoot’s eyelid’s fluttered. “I don’t…know.” He managed to gasp.

The black warrior took a step forward, his amber eyes flashing with alarm.

Finchfoot rounded on the encroaching cats. “Back away!” he hissed. “He needs space.”

The cats shuffled back a few paces, but every eye was still fixed on Mossfoot’s body. Finchfoot whipped back around and continued to work. His paws flashed in the moonlight as he pressed cobwebs and chewed leafy pulp onto Mossfoot’s ragged side wound.

He continued to work even after Mossfoot’s flank fell for the last time.

Eaglestar stepped up to Finchfoot’s side. He placed his tail on his medicine cat’s shoulder. “Finchfoot.”

Finchfoot jerked away from his leader’s touch. His green eyes were fixed on the cat at his paws. The cat he had failed to save. He kept working.

Moans of grief and fear rose up among the gathered AlderClan cats.

“What are we going to do, Eaglestar?” a long-legged tabby she-cat pressed.

Eaglestar looked down at his desperate medicine cat, then around at his injured and terrified Clan. He gripped the ground with his claws.

“We pray for Coalpaw.”

. . .

Heronflight moved through the sparse undergrowth on paws as light as feathers. His heart was strangely calm even though his brain was crowded with anxious thoughts. He pushed these away with one thought.

Blizzardstar trusted you with this.

He steeled himself as he slipped into the shadows of a low-growing pine. He paused and tasted the air. He could smell AlderClan, obviously, but the scent was tainted by the damp smell of WillowClan and the rankness of rouges.

Heronflight's heartbeat quickened. Determined to get more information, he crept out from under the fragrant pine needles and headed for a pile of snow-topped boulders about a tree-length away.

The sound of a branch snapping nearby sent a burst of speed through Heronflight's paws. He reached the stones just as two cats emerged from a copse of closely-knit pine trunks just downhill of where Heronflight now hid. He settled himself down between two rocks and silently gave thanks for his black and gray pelt.

The two cats crept out of the shadows and into the moonlight. Heronflight felt a twinge of surprise as he examined them. One, a large white tom, looked oddly familiar. He cast his mind around and settled on that day at the river when he had fallen in. What had Kestrelfeather called the imposing white tom? Fogpelt?

As Heronflight watched, however, he realized something about this cat's posture was wrong.

His suspicions were confirmed as the white tom's companion, a skittish looking gray tom, spoke.

"I'm not sure about this, Frozenpelt." He faltered as he looked around, his ears pressed to the sides of his head. Heronflight lowered himself flatter to the cold stone as the gray tom's unseeing, fearful gaze passed over him.

Frozenpelt strode forward, not bothering to wait for his companion. The gray tom jumped when he realized he was being left behind. He scrambled after his Clanmate.

"It feels weird taking orders from that CedarClan cat." The gray tom went on. His head flicked from side-to-side in the motions of a cat who knew he was doing something wrong.

"Are you sure that-"

"Will you shut up, Sootstep?" Frozenpelt growled.

Sootstep jumped, but said no more. The two dissapeared into the night further downhill. Cursing silently, Heronflight slid off of his rock perch. He needed more than that to report back to Blizzardstar.

He turned his gaze to where the WillowClan cats had emerged from the trees. He took a deep breath and retraced their steps.

A few fox-lengths into the grove of pines, Heronflight caught wind of the scents of cats. Many cats. He slowed his pace and moved off of the path the WillowClan cats had taken. He skimmed through the trees and almost non-existant undergrowth until his ears twitched and he heard the sound of hushed meows.

Heart pounding now, Heronflight pressed his belly to the frozen ground and slowed to a crawl. With a quick test of the air to make sure he was downwind, he dragged himself closer to the sound and smell of cats. The trees parted in front of him and gave him a partially-obscured view of a small clearing and the cats within. He froze.

Just a fox-length away sat Cougarstar.

Heronflight held his breath and backed up a few steps. His heart was beating so loudly that he could have sworn that the WillowClan leader must have heard it. To his immense relief, Cougarstar hadn't moved a muscle.

She sat straight-backed on top of a smooth stone amidst the roots of a large pine at the edge of the clearing. Before her milled two distinct groups of cats. The WillowClan warriors stood away from the rouges, eyes suspicious and tails twitching. The ragged group looked non-plussed that their companions were so obviously made uncomfortable by their presence. Some were even gnawing on prey or lying, possibly asleep, in the shadows.

A worm of worry wriggled in Heronflight's belly. These rouges were not the same as the ones who had attacked CedarClan before. They were sleeker, well-groomed, and more muscular. They stared around with discerning eyes and perked ears. These cats were trained, ready, and dangerous.

His stomach lurched as the rouges parted and a familiar figure emerged from their depths. Cranewing walked with confidence towards Cougarstar. Heronflight was again struck by his uncle's face. He was so distracted that he almost missed the cat walking beside Cranewing. Following him was a short black-and-white she-cat with fearsome yellow eyes. Her small size was made irrelevant by the sheer malice she exuded.

Her features were sharp and thin. Black fur around her eyes made them glow with a quiet ferocity. Even as she approached a cat with as much presence as Cougarstar, she held her head at a lofty height.

The she-cat came to a halt at Cougarstar's paws and sat. She curled her tail around her paws and tilted her head expectantly. Cranewing stepped up beside her and gave Cougarstar an exaggerated bow before sitting as well. Cougarstar ignored her deputy and stared down at the she-cat. She bent one ear in confusion. The black-and-white she-cat stared back, defiant.

Cougarstar opened her mouth in a snarl but Cranewing cut her off.

"This is Roach, the rouge's leader." he said in his silken voice.

Cougarstar shut her muzzle and glared at the diminuative Roach. Roach held her gaze. After a tension-filled moment, the WillowClan leader gave a shot nod of recognition. Only then did Roach do the same.

Heronflight was impressed. This was a cat that knew she was in charge. No titles or extra lives intimidated her.

"So you've finally decided to show yourself." Cougarstar said, annoyed. "I was growing tired of your decoys."

Roach didn't answer right away. She lifted a white paw and cleaned it for a moment before responding in a quiet, yet firm, voice.

"I needed to know I could trust you." she said with a shrug.

Cougarstar's eyes bulged. "You-" she started sharply. Cranewing shot her a look. Cougarstar stopped and forced herself to take a breath before starting again.

"You can trust the word of a Clan leader." Her voice shook with the effort of keeping calm.

Roach lowered her paw and examined Cougarstar through one pale yellow eye. "Apparently." she said.

There was a moment of silence.

Cranewing cleared his throat. "Now that the nicities are over, we have a problem." His tone and posture confused Heronflight. He sat there as if he too were a Clan leader. Despite his earlier bow, he now showed no deference to the cat he claimed his allegiance was pledged to.

Heronflight expected Cougarstar to be annoyed by this, but she turned her gaze to him without so much as a flinch of frustration. He had gained her trust absolutely.

"And?" Roach said flatly.

A look of satisfaction flashed across Cranewing's face before he spoke again.

"CedarClan." he said.

Heronflight nearly turned and fled right then, but curiosity, determination, and, admittedly, fear stayed his paws.

"They are coming." Cranewing said.

A tiny drop of relief settled into Heronflight's belly. They didn't know everything yet.

Roach narrowed her eyes and Cougarstar made a noise of disbelief and anger.

"I thought they were taken care of." The WillowClan leader hissed.

Cranewing glanced at Roach and shrugged. "The rouges must have failed."

Heronflight half expected Roach to turn and shred Cranewing's ears but the she-cat stayed stone-still.

"Even if they did, CedarClan will be in no shape to fight." Cougarstar said with a dismissive flick of her tail. "Besides, we stopped the AlderClan patrols. There's no way Blizzardstar knows what's happening."

Roach eyed the WillowClan leader but said nothing.

Cranewing's eyes flicked between the two she-cats. He settled his gaze on his leader. "Cougarstar, might I speak to you privately?" he said. His lofty mew had lowered to one of seriousness.

Cougarstar gave a stiff nod and turned to Roach expectantly. Roach didn't move. The two Clan cats exchanged a glance and then began to move away from the rouge.

Right towards Heronflight.

Panicking, Heronflight scrambled backwards until his haunches banged against a tree trunk. He slithered around the wood and pressed himself up against the rough bark. He faced the dark forest and could only hope that Cranewing and Cougarstar ventured no further.

To Heronflight's relief, the sounds of their pawsteps stopped before they reached his tree. Heronflight fixed his eyes on a broken bough on the ground and focused his ears.

"...They are coming. One of the AlderClan cats escaped." Cranewing was saying in a hushed mew.

Cougarstar didn't sound convinced. "Blizzardstar wouldn't put his Clan at risk after an attack." she shot back.

Cranewing's response was so quiet that Heronflight almost lost it under the sound of his own heart pounding.

"Trust me."

"She told you?" Cougarstar's voice had lowered with awe.

Silence met her words. Heronflight shuddered. Here was more proof that Crowfrost was a traitor. He must have warned whoever was moving the pieces in the shadows.

Cougarstar swore under her breath.

"We have warning. We can catch them off guard." Cranewing said in a louder mew.

More sounds of soft pawsteps. They were heading back to Roach. Heronflight had to know what they were planning. He waited a few more heartbeats before slipping out from behind his tree and crawling back to his hiding spot. The scents of Cranewing and Cougarstar overwhelmed his nose, but he tried his best to ignore them.

"...send scounts." Cougarstar was saying. She raised her voice and beckoned with her tail.

"Tigerfang, Twistedroot." she called.

Two dark tabbies entered Heronflight's line of sight. At the same time, Roach had turned and waved at her own cats. Two similarly dark-pelted cats stepped forward without Roach saying a word. The four summoned cats approached their leaders. Heronflight lowered his head, hoping the moonlight wouldn't reflect off of his eyes and give away his position.

"Head toward our border." Cougarstar instructed the cats. "Do not be seen. Watch for reinforcements."

Tigerfang and Twistedroot nodded and rose to their paws. The rouges didn't move. Cougarstar nodded at them. "You too." she snapped.

The rouges stayed where they were.

Cougarstar blinked in surprise. She drew her lips back in a snarl and took a step forward, claws extended. Before she could act, Roach gave a tiny nod to her cats. They immediately stood and padded away. Confused, Tigerfang and Twistedroot followed after them.

Seeming satisfied, Cougarstar shot a smug glance at Roach before moving away with an imperious flick of her tail in Cranewing's direction.

Heronflight let out a small breath. He had enough information. He needed to go, now. He began to shuffle backwards.

Cranewing made to follow Cougarstar, but stopped. Heronflight froze. He looked over his shoulder and glared at Roach.

"I thought you said they would follow her orders." he hissed.

Roach shrugged. "They do not respect her. I cannot control what they do." Her voice had an odd accent that Heronflight had missed before.

Cranewing snorted and lashed his tail. "Can't they pretend to respect her? At least until this is over?"

Roach's lip twitched. "I will speak with them."

Cranewing rolled his eyes and hurried after Cougarstar.

Roach took her time in standing up and stretching. Heronflight watched her, annoyance and fear rising in his chest. He had to go, but he couldn't risk her hearing him escape.

With a final flick of her ears, Roach shook out her pelt and stalked away.

Heronflight turned and, with the whispers of dead leaves at his paws, shot away into the darkness.

. . .

There was no sign of the scouts as Heronflight half-ran, half-snuck back to where his Clan was hidden among a field of boulders. He arrived out of breath but hopeful. They still had the upper paw.

He slipped past two speckled black and pinkish hunks of granite and was immediately flattened to the gritty ground. He squeaked involuntarily.

"Heronflight!" Gasped a familiar voice.

Morningsong stepped off of Heronflight and backed up. He got to his paws and shook out his coat.

"You surprised me." Morningsong said.

"Its fine. Where's Blizzardstar?" Heronflight gasped.

Morningsong led him on a twisting path through the rocks. Other CedarClan cats appeared behind stone and watched them pass. Moments later they were at the foot of a particularly tall upright slab of granite. Blizzardstar and Whiteshade sat in its shadow.

They rose to their paws as they saw Heronflight approaching.

"Blizzardstar." Heronflight said with a quick nod. "We don't have much time. They've sent scouts."

Blizzardstar wasted no time. He scraped his claws against the rock in a one, one-two-three, one pattern. In moments the rest of the battle patrol was there. Their eyes glowed in the moonlight and their paws moved with expert silence.

Heronflight felt one pair of blue eyes burning into his pelt. Blizzardstar needed to know the full truth.

"There's something else." Heronflight said in a low voice. Blizzardstar's eyes fell on him. "They were warned."

Whiteshade's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean, 'warned'?"

Heronflight hesitated. He met his leader's gaze. "We've been betrayed." he said in an even lower voice.

Blizzardstar'e eyes widened, but before he could speak, Cherrynose shot out from behind a boulder.

"Scouts!" she hissed, her mottled fur on end.

Blizzardstar nodded. "We can intercept them quietly." He gave the signal to move. Every cat got to their paws, ready.

"Into the trees." Blizzardstar commanded.

The patrol turned and began to scramble over the rocks and back onto the forest floor. Young pine trees dotted the land around the boulder field. Heronflight's heart fluttered with excitement as the patrol began to split up into pairs and swarm up the trunks.

He darted towards the closest tree and began to climb. He was surprised to find Whiteshade and Brushfire already among the lowest branches. He was shooed away by a quiet hiss. He dropped to the ground and looked around. He watched as Morningsong and Hawkstrike dissapeared into a nearby tree. No one else was left but him.

Panicking slightly, Heronflight glanced around for an empty tree. He spotted one and raced for it. He scrambled up the trunk and found himself face-to-face with Crowfrost.

There was no time to change trees, and Crowfrost was alone. After a moment of awkward eye contact, the black warrior shuffled backward to make room. Heronflight settled himself onto a branch and fixed his eyes on the ground below. He tried to ignore Crowfrost's icy gaze.

"You know." Crowfrost breathed in his brother's ear. It wasn't a question.

Heronflight's throat tightened. "Yes." He murmured.

There was silence. Heronflight watched for movement without really seeing. What now? He had to know.

"Who will you fight for?" Heronflight said.

"CedarClan." The word was a hiss.

Suddenly angry, Heronflight whipped his head around to face Crowfrost. "You betrayed CedarClan." he accused.

Crowfrost's eyes flashed with cold fire, but there was something else there, too. Fear? Confusion?

"Never." he spat.

Heronflight dug his claws into the soft bark of the branch beneath him. "How do they know, then?"

Crowfrost's eyes widened slightly before narrowing again. "I never-"

A hiss from the next tree over cut Crowfrost off. "Shut up!"

Heronflight turned to see Kestrelfeather's green eyes glaring at them from under a heavily laden bough. Shadowgrove was crouched next to him, his lips drawn in a snarl.

Frustrated and ashamed, Heronflight focused on watching for the scouts. 

Sounds of pawsteps drifted to them on the night air. Heronflight stiffened, ready. 

"We know you're there!" a gruff voice called out. 

Heronflight froze. 

What?

"Move and she dies!" The voice said. 

Confused, Heronflight watched as five shadowed figures moved cautiously from the forest into his field of vision. 

There were the four scouts that had been sent, but who was the fifth?

Heronflight felt Crowfrost stiffen beside him. There was a sharp gasp from somewhere. 

The four cats shoved the fifth into a pool of moonlight. 

It was Petalpaw. 


	40. Vanish

Ice shot through Heronflight's veins. He stared down from his perch at the shadowy ground where four enemy cats stood over Petalpaw's unmoving figure. One of the rouges, a black tom, had a forepaw pressed to her throat.   
What? How?  
Heronflight wracked his brain trying to think of a reason Petalpaw was down there instead of safe with the rest of the patrol. He couldn't think of a reason. There just wasn't a reason!  
"No..." Crowfrost's strained gasp came from behind Heronflight, jerking him out of his thoughts.   
"She was safe. She found somewhere to hide and wait." Crowfrost's voice tightened with every word. He sounded like Heronflight felt. Helpless. Bewildered. Guilty.   
Blizzardstar's calm voice rang out through the trees. "What do you want?"   
The other rouge, a shaggy brown and tan tom, stepped forward. He swept the trees with his poisonous green gaze.   
"Leave. This conflict does not concern you." The rouge growled.   
The two WillowClan cats stood slightly away from the rouges. Their ears were laid back and they looked distinctly uncomfortable.   
Heronflight strained, trying to get a better look at Petalpaw's condition. His heart jumped painfully in his chest as he saw the red of blood against the white of her underbelly.   
It took everything he had not to throw himself down from the tree and attack. He could feel Crowfrost shaking beside him and knew that his brother was fighting the same urge.   
"Even if it didn't before," Blizzardstar called from his invisible perch, "It does now."   
"Why are we even talking?" Spat Kestrelfeather. "You have no idea how many of us there are."   
The rouge with his paw on Petalpaw's throat looked up, directly at Kestrelfeather's tree. His amber eyes betrayed no fear. "Eleven." he said matter-of-factly.   
Kestrelfeather was rendered speechless.   
"Eleven to four? I would not take those odds." Blizzardstar said, seemingly unphased.   
The brown tom drew his lips back in a snarl. "Don't waste my time. Your little medicine cat is at our mercy."   
"We are not leaving here without her." Blizzardstar growled.   
The black rouge's eyes glinted. "Do you really have a choice?" His claws glowed a dull yellow against Petalpaw's white throat.   
There was quiet for a few agonizing heartbeats. Heronflight looked around, terrified, at his Clanmates. Kestrelfeather looked angry, but Shadowgrove was at his side, keeping the auburn warrior from leaping into action. To Heronflight's left he saw Morningsong gripping the pine with all four paws. Her eyes were wide with distress and helplessness. Hawkstrike sat behind her, shaking his head. Everyone else, Falconstorm, Cherrynose, Whiteshade, and even Brushfire looked absolutely defeated.   
He turned and faced Crowfrost. The black warrior's eyes were stretched wide and unseeing. His mouth moved in a harried whisper. "She'll be okay..."  
Heronflight found his last hope, Blizzardstar, sitting alone in his tree. His blue eyes were shadowed, but his shoulders were still raised and strong.   
Heronflight gazed at his leader, urging the great cat to act, to save Petalpaw.   
Blizzardstar's shoulders drooped.   
Heronflight's blood ran cold.   
The black rouge's eyes narrowed with triumph. "Well, what are you waiting for, Clan scat?" His claws clenched slightly and new blood beaded out around them.  
Two things happened in quick succession; Crowfrost and Heronflight both lurched forward, and one of Petalpaw's green eyes snapped open as she swung her head backward to sink her teeth into her captor's foreleg.  
Chaos erupted as Heronflight's paws hit the forest floor. The black rouge screeched in pain as Petalpaw's attack drew blood. Other CedarClan warriors were dropping from their trees as Heronflight and Crowfrost ran past.   
Heart thumping and mind racing, Heronflight fixed his eyes on Petalpaw. Each heartbeat stretched on with adrenaline-induced sluggishness.   
The black rouge had recovered from his momentary lapse and had wrestled Petalpaw back into submission. His claws gripped her and she let out a screech of pain. The brown rouge stepped back as Heronflight and Crowfrost drew closer. The WillowClan warriors looked like they were about to flee at any moment.   
Heronflight readied himself as he drew within several foxlengths of his target.   
He could see the recognition and relief in her eyes turn to shock and horror as he was violently intercepted by the reinforcements they hadn't known were coming.   
It had been a trap.   
Rouges, large, well-muscled, and fierce, flooded out of the darkness. Heronflight had no time to brace himself for the attack.   
He was hit hard. Enough to crush the breath from his lungs and to send him flying like a dead mouse. He landed, dazed and choking, at least a foxlength from where he had just been. He wheezed and scrabbled at the ground. It took a few agonizing tries before his cramping chest would fill with air again.   
In the moments that Heronflight was incapacitated, the rest of the CedarClan patrol had clashed with their enemy. The clearing had transformed into a writhing knot of screeches and snarls. He watched from where he lay on his side as his Clanmates fought their shock and faced their foes.   
Familiar pelts were surrounded on all sides. Falconstorm and Hawkstrike were fighting side-by-side, shadows of one another. Kestrelfeather was grappling with a hefty tabby rouge. Blizzardstar had been engulfed by what looks like a dozen cats but was still managing to wreak havoc on his own.   
As Heronflight watched, Hawkstrike took a blow to the side and disappeared into the chaos. Heronflight's belly lurched. A heartbeat later, Blizzardstar was downed by four cats at once, and Kestrelfeather was knocked to the ground.   
I have to get up! Heronflight screamed inwardly. I have to help them!  
He forced his limbs to move. He drew in a deep, painful breath and pushed himself to his paws. His first steps were unsteady but he regained his composure and began to run.   
He searched the fray, overwhelmed by the amount of fighting. Who should he help? What should he do?   
He caught sight of something that made his blood run cold. Petalpaw was being dragged backwards into the boulders. Blood stained her face and she was limp. Heronflight's paws turned towards her without thought.   
"Heronflight!" A desperate call made him turn to see Kestrelfeather struggling against his attackers. His fearful gaze wasn't on Heronflight, but on Blizzardstar. The great cat was barely visible under the swarm of rouges assaulting him at every side. Blood and fur flew as the leader lashed out, bit, and screeched.   
For a moment, Heronflight didn't know what to do. No one else was near enough to help Blizzardstar, but Petalpaw was being taken away. Panic flooded Heronflight's senses as more blood stained the ground where Blizzardstar was fighting for his life.   
A flash of black fur brought Heronflight to himself. Crowfrost was making a break for the crack in the rocks where Petalpaw had vanished. Heronflight saw his own determination in his brother's face as the black warrior ducked and weaved around fighting cats.   
His decision made and his trust placed in Crowfrost, Heronflight threw himself into the fight.  
. . .  
White hot anger spasmed through Crowfrost's paws, spurring him forward. He knocked aside a rouge who tried to get in his way. The cat's cry of pain was cut short as Crowfrost shot past. He dodged one final attack before slipping between the boulders and out of sight of the battle ground. He slowed and took in his surroundings.  
Blood spattered the ground at his paws. He looked up and locked eyes with the rouge at the other end of the chasm between boulders. The rouge's eyes rounded with fear and he began struggling to drag Petalpaw around the edge of another stone.   
Crowfrost bared his teeth and dashed after them. As Petalpaw's limp tail disappeared behind the rock, a shadow dropped down from above Crowfrost and forced him to skid to an awkward halt. He almost lashed out at the newcomer before recognition stayed his claws. He dropped his paw to the ground and stared.   
Cranewing, still holding a slightly defensive stance, looked Crowfrost up and down. His shoulder fur relaxed a bit.   
"Not so fast." He said in his calm mew.   
Crowfrost balked in disbelief. He tried to shove past Cranewing but was rebuffed by the black and gray warrior's surprising strength.   
"I said, slow down." Cranewing tsked. His yellow eyes were void of the slight humor in his voice.   
"But Petalpaw-" Crowfrost protested.   
Cranewing shook his head. "Her part to play is not done."   
Frustration pricked at Crowfrost's paws. "She's injured."   
"Trust her vision."   
Crowfrost held his tongue. He knew what Cranewing meant by 'her'. Songbird's plan must still be in motion. He fixed Cranewing with what he hoped was an intimidating stare. "She has control over the rouges?"   
Cranewing rolled his eyes but nodded.   
Crowfrost forced himself to relax. "What should I do?"   
Cranewing turned his face towards the sounds of the ongoing fight. "Sounds like they need you." he said casually.   
As if to emphasize his words, a screech split the air. Crowfrost flinched. Cranewing turned to leave.  
"Wait!" Crowfrost blurted out.   
Cranewing paused and looked over his shoulder. Crowfrost hesitated. His head hurt. He didn't understand anything. For a moment he hadn't known whether Songbird was going to let Petalpaw die. Her life had been hanging by a thread and Crowfrost hadn't been sure.  
"What is this all for?" He managed.   
Cranewing's eyes darkened. "She's been trying to show you for a while now. You know who the enemy is."   
Crowfrost swallowed but didn't respond.   
Cranewing flicked his tail, turned, and vanished behind the rocks.   
Crowfrost watched the spot where he had disappeared, wondering why he had let Petalpaw go, and yet not allowing himself to go after her.   
. . .  
The scent of blood clogged Heronflight's nose as he slashed and fought to free his leader. The cats around him were relentless. As he tore one attacker away, two more would replace it.   
They all but ignored Heronflight. Any injury he sustained seemed to be by accident as the cats tried desperately to claw at some part of Blizzardstar's exposed fur.   
By some miracle, Blizzardstar was still fighting. He thrashed and bucked wildly beneath the throng of cats. The sheer amount of them was causing their attacks to be blocked or miss their target. It was madness.   
Panic moved Heronflight's claws. He dragged cat after cat off of Blizzardstar but to no avail. A feral light of bloodlust shone in their eyes. There was something about the way these rouges fought that sent Heronflight's blood running cold. He had never seen a Clan cat do the same.   
A piercing pain shot up his back as a set of claws dug into him from behind. He shrieked in pain and twisted, trying to throw his attacker off. The claws dug deeper and, with a mighty wrench, yanked Heronflight to the ground.   
His head hit the ground with a dizzying thump. He blinked, trying to regain his bearings, and found himself eye-to-eye with Blizzardstar. The great white cat's blue eyes burned as they met Heronflight's  
The contact lasted less than a heartbeat. Then Blizzardstar kicked out with his hind legs and a she-cat went flying. The retaliation from the rouges blocked Heronflight's view.   
With rising fear and dawning realization, Heronflight knew that he couldn't help alone. He scrambled backwards and raised his voice to a keening howl.   
"CedarClan! To Blizzardstar!"   
He didn't know if his Clanmates could even heed the call. He had no idea how many others were being swarmed and ripped apart by these savage cats. He raised his head to StarClan and held his breath, readying himself to dive back in and fight for Blizzardstar's life.   
In two short heartbeats Falconstorm and Kestrelfeather were at his side. Without a word the three warriors launched themselves at the backs of the attacking rouges.   
Falconstorm dug his claws into the backs of two rouges and ripped them away with a mighty heave. Kestrelfeather shot into the gap and began raking his claws at the underbellies of the other cats. Heronflight, almost weak with relief, threw himself at whatever unfamiliar pelt he could find and began tearing and biting.  
More CedarClan cats heeded Heronflight's call. Hawkstrike joined him while Brushfire and Whiteshade threw themselves into the fray. Shadowgrove and Cherrynose appeared moments later.   
As one, the CedarClan warriors fell on the rouges. They grasped pelts in their jaws and dragged claws through fur.   
The rouges screeched and wailed, disorganized. They had had chaos on their side for a moment, but now CedarClan's coordinated attacks were proving to be too much. Hope soared in Heronflight's chest as the brown and white she-cat he tossed aside turned and ran instead of reengaging. The enemy was fleeing in earnest now.   
As the last of the rouge fighting force managed to disentangle themselves from the fight, Heronflight sought his leader's pelt.   
The last cats were driven away, revealing a bloodied heap on the forest floor. Blizzardstar's white fur was stained a dark, almost blackish red. His pelt hung in shredded clumps off of his shoulders and spine, and one of his ears was gone entirely. He was curled up with his back to Heronflight. He might've been sleeping.   
Heronflight was at his leader's side without knowing how he got there. He stared down.   
Blizzardstar looked so small. His eyes were shut as if he was dreaming. Blood ran from his nose and from his mouth. As Heronflight watched, a single droplet fell from his fang and onto his paw.   
"Father!" Morningsong's devestated cry shook Heronflight to his core. Other yowls of shock and fear were muted by a loud buzzing in his ears. He barely noticed as the rest of the patrol gathered around the fallen leader.   
Blizzardstar's body shivered.   
Heronflight drew a sharp intake of breath.   
"He's losing a life." Whiteshade said quietly.  
"How many does he have left?" Morningsong demanded. She pressed herself close to Blizzardstar's head and began murmuring in his ear and stroking his back with her tail.   
Heronflight looked up at Whiteshade. The others were looking at the deputy expectantly. He shook his head.   
"Petalpaw will know." Morningsong said in a cracked mew. "Where is she?"   
Heronflight's belly lurched and he looked around. There was no sign of Petalpaw or Crowfrost. Horror crept up his spine. Had he been wrong to trust Crowfrost?   
"He's reviving!" Shadowgrove said in a hushed whisper.   
The warriors drew closer. Heronflight watched as Blizzardstar opened one blue eye. It stared into the sky overhead without seeing.   
"Father?" Morningsong cooed.   
Blizzardstar's eye drifted to Morningsong's face. He said nothing.  
"Don't worry," Kestrelfeather muttered, "It takes him a moment."   
The CedarClan warriors held their breath as Blizzardstar's lacerated flank rose and fell shakily. He gave another little spasm, his eye rolled back into his head, and he fell still.   
There was silence.   
Heronflight felt like he had turned to stone. His mouth ran dry, and his heart seemed to stop in anticipation.   
They waited far longer than they should have. Blizzardstar's side did not rise again.   
  
  
  



End file.
